running man

i'm not snoopy. but some people would call it that. i like sitting in the mall and people-watching. i like watching people in their cars when we're stopped at a red light picking their noses or singing along to screamo. the other day, i saw an absolutely enourmous man in an absolutely enourmous truck with tattoos and a bald head and pierced everything looking generally miffed about life and aggressively sucking on a little tiny juice box. and i know, it doesn't sound that funny, but i laughed. you would have, too. it was like watching a gorilla eat a poodle. he owned that juice box.
anyways, the point is not that. on my way home last night, at like 10:45 pm, i saw a middle-aged man dressed in standard middle-aged man clothes running in tight little circles on the side of the road. not race track sized circles, not duck duck goose sized circles. i'm running around a hat sized circles.
i even drove back around the block to see if i could solve this mystery, which i knew would bother me all night, but by the time i got there, the running man had vanished.
and i don't think i'm snoopy to wonder why.