I guess I never realized I had a superpower. But it’s been creeping into my daily life for a bit now. I see it in passing glimpses. People don’t see me. I thought at first it was because I am in the big city. DC. Melting pot and shit hole all in one. I have grown used to it in the gay community. Most gay men seemed to look beyond me to some point on the horizon where other hotties are made, I guess. Because they weren’t looking at me.
No. The true state of the nature of my superpower came into full bloom last week. Now anyone who knows me knows that I am a pretty courteous guy. I say please and thank you and remember when birthdays are of most of the folks around me.
As I stepped off the elevator at work and headed to Panera in my building, I noticed them. Two older women wandering through the lobby of my building. They were headed in the same direction as I was. That is to say the glass doors going to Panera. I quickly grabbed the door and held it for them, my delightfully goofy grin firmly in place. They stepped through the doors and continued to walk. They didn’t see me. I called out, “You’re welcome!” Still no response. I thought perhaps they were just rude like so many other people I had encountered in DC.
But after last weekend, I realize I have superpowers. My apologies to the old white women I thought were rude.
I was out drinking and partying with friends. After a few shots and adult beverages, my liquid courage was at threshold. I said hi to guys. Smiling and complimenting them. But no one chatted back. Not one guy said hi back. No smiles, not even looks of distain. Now I know I am short. That’s easily verifiable. But I am not so short that your line of sight towers over my head!
As I was getting into the metro train at Pentagon station today, I politely waited until others disembarked the train. The conductor obviously didn’t see me as the doors slammed to a close when I tried to step across the threshold. Another couple of inches closer and my Romanesque nose would have been clamped in its clutches.
Someone tried to close the elevator doors on me today. My roommate didn’t notice my freshly shorn hair last night.
I am unaware of radiation exposure or any other chemicals that could have caused such an unexpected situation. Nor do I recall strange lights during the recent eclipse. There’s been no evidence that I have been abducted by aliens. So I am uncertain as to how these mysterious powers developed.
Just don’t tell the government. I don’t wanna be a lab rat!
So you see, my superpower is real. Forget going to see hottie extraordinaire Chris Evans in Captain America or the new Superman movie with hottie mchot. You have a real live superhero right here. The problem is you won’t see me. And I am sitting next to ya!
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A Nomad Named Daniel 
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