What?

- psst...Hey, what do I do with this?

- Just eat it, bro.

- Okay, okay, don't yell at me.

- Yea, just eat it.

- It tastes like a potato chip.

- What?  Yea it sort of does, doesn't it?

- So, what—some company produces these?

- I guess.

- In some factory...

- Yea, I guess.

- Oh...interesting.

- What?

- Nothing, it's interesting.

- What is?

- What do you mean?

- That your way of being clever?

- What do you mean?

- Are you making some commentary—come on, it's Mass, bro.  

- I'm not.

- It's just church.

- I know—I didn't—

- What's wrong with church?

- Nothing's wrong—

- Don't be wry.

- I'm not.

- You're being wry.

- I'm not being wry.

- It's just church.  

- I know. 

- Way to pick a time.

- I didn't say—

- Much, you didn't say much.  

- All right.

- Nothing to break the walls...You think you're saying anything new?

- No, sadly.

- You don't want one of these old timers to hear...

- I know—

- Your old one-two punch.

- I'm not saying anything.

- Yea, no getting up from that one...

- Didn't say anything.

- No getting up—what's wrong? You didn't get to blog or something this morning?

- I'm not saying anything!

- First you put your butt in the holy water.

- I thought it was an ashtray!  

- Whatever.

- Hey, when she gave me the chip—

- It's the body of Christ, man.

- Yea, I thought I should kneel down.

- That's stupid.

- I think I made my hands like a cup.

- She's not giving you porridge.  You're not Oliver Twist.

- I never read that book.

- But you know what I'm talking about...

- Yea, but I've never seen the movie either.

- I haven't either.

- Then how do we both know what we're talking about?

- Everyone knows.

- I don't know about those lyrics though.  Have you read them? I saw you singing.

- Yea I sing them all the time.  My back, man...

- All churches are the same.  One essential fact you can't escape: the awkwardness when you can't stand anymore and old men are still standing.

- No one's looking at you.

- The guy with the fishing net was.

- All in your head, bro.

- Actually, when I was reading through the lyrics, I was hoping he noticed. 

- I don't know why they get this guy, man...

- Notice and nod—

- The Nigerian priest—every time he delivers his sermon, you can't understand a word he's saying.

- I could feel him over my shoulder.

- He drives really fast, the priest—(aside) What?  What are they looking at?

- You're being really loud.

- He wasn't watching you read.  Come on, let's go. 

animal faces

- There she is.

- Who?

- My girlfriend.

- Oh, she's your girlfriend but she just doesn't know it yet?

- She's my Isabella.

- Which one is she?

- I'm not telling.

- Tell me, I won't say anything.

- No.  You'll say everything.

- No, I won't.  When have I ever messed with you?

- No, you'll fuck my shit up.

- No, I won't—I won't fuck your shit up.

- You won't fuck my shit up?

- No, come on, who is she?

- Why?  Are you jealous?

- Who is she!

- Fine...the one with the red hair.

- Oh, she's beautiful.  Hard to miss, too—God, I love her hair.

- I know, she holds the lien to my heart.

- Have you ever talked to her?

- Oh, no.

- Why not? 

- Because.

- How are you going to meet her if you don't approach her?

- Well, I'm already going out with her.  So I'm ahead of the—

- You have to start introducing yourself to girls.

- I don't want to make her jealous—

- Stop making jokes.  You have to start approaching them.

- No, they'll know.

- Know what?  

- None of your business.  

- Just walk up and talk to her.  You're a great guy—

- Yea, I know.

- You're nice, you're smart, you're really funny—girls love a sense of humor.

- No, I have an issue.

- Which is?

- I was working on my whiteheads—it's fascinating, really—and now there are red prints on the tip of my nose.  

- So?  

- She's going to say he's been poppin' whiteheads.  She's going to say it to her friends—they'll all laugh at me.

- Stop making excuses and go say hi.

- No, she's going to know I was looking at myself in the mirror.

- So, girls like guys who take care of themselves.

- Not me.

- Yes you do.

- Yea but she's not supposed to know.  It'll kill my mystique.

- You're too intriguing to take a shower?

- How's she going to think I'm humble if she knows I've been checking me out.

- She doesn't think you're humble.  Nobody does.

- Well, she's going to picture me.  She's going to know I want to have sex.

- No, she's not.  

- She's going to picture me making those faces.

- What faces?

- Animal faces!

- She's not going to think like that.

- I can't ever tell her I use the bathroom.

- Just walk up to her and introduce yourself.  

- Then what?  Where do I look?  

- Don't look around.  Ask her if this is her homegroup.  

- What if she says it's not—I'll kill myself.  

- Say you felt like introducing yourself and you'd like to have coffee sometime.

- But she's already drinking coffee.

- Quit stalling.  I'll walk up with you.  Having a girl next to you—

- You'll vouch for me.  Yea, I know—

- No—

- Here, just laugh, just laugh.

- What?

- Wait, she's not looking.

- No, we'll go introduce ourselves.  All she can do is say No.

- No way, I have trauma from middle school.  She's going to know she has power over me after she turns me down.

- She's not going to turn you down.

- She's going to say he's been poppin' whiteheads.  She's going to tell her guy friends—I won't ever be able to come back here.

- You can't let fear of rejection—

- I'll have to kill them.

- I used to go to a meeting just for this one guy to talk to me.  Finally, I got tired of waiting and just gave him my number. 

- Oh, jeez, that's pathetic.

- Fuck you!

- Well, what happened—you guys end up fornicating?

- Umm, no, but the worst that happened is he didn't call.

- He didn't tell reporters?

- All right, you ready? 

- I'm gonna have to tell her my past though.

- No you don't—you're saying hi.

- Should I tell her about my ex?

- No.  Just pay her a compliment.

- Well, I love girls who dye their hair.

- Don't say that.  Just compliment her.

- She's got a lot of tattoos—she's probably not a virgin, huh?

- That's none of your business.

- Right.  I'll tell her that.

- No, don't bring up her virginity.

- Right—

- And don't say fornicate either.

- Well, what kind of compliment is acceptable?  Compliments scream desperation.

- Tell her you like her skin tone.

- I've tried telling them I like their skin before!  It doesn't work.

- Let's go before she goes in.

- No, you go.  Tell her I'm a bit of a romantic.

- You're going to miss your chance

- Wait, no.  That other girl's there.  I don't want to say anything in front of her.

- Why not?  Who is she?

- My other girlfriend—I don't want to make her jealous.

- Fine.  Do what you want to do.  You can keep joking around and all you'll ever have is material.

- (mumbling as she walks away) Pageviews, here I come!

donut shop

five a.m.

good boy!

- (Dave) How long you got, brother?
- (Lou) Two years.
- (Dave) Shit, you're an old timer.
- (Lou, laughs) Yea, right.  I had two years before that, too.  Went out with one beer.
- (Dave) I know what that's like.
- (Earl) Yea, I had two years, too.
- (Lou) Oh, good for you, man.
- (Earl) Went out with one beer.
- (Lou, laughs) You too, huh?
- (Dave) If you're going to have one beer, you might as well have orange juice.
- (Lou) You're sick if you don't drink the rest of it.
- (Dave, laughs) Yea, right?
- (Earl) Before that, I had two years.
- (Lou) What?
- (Earl) I had two years...when I went out on one beer.
- (Lou) Oh, okay, right.
- (Earl) Before that I had two years.
- (Lou, laughs) Sounds like we have similar stories.
- (Earl) Yea, it sounds like we have similar stories.
- (Lou) I had this thing happen to me though, a few days ago.
- (Dave) Hmm?
- (Lou) I drink a lot of coffee, right?  For throughout my work, like eight espressos a day—I drive a cab.
- (Dave) Right.
- (Lou) But seven days ago I had to check into the emergency room.
- (Dave) Shit, what happened?
- (Lou) That day, I drank a cup of this thing called Nitro something—it's got a lot of caffeine.  But I didn't know.
- (Dave) Yea.
- (Lou) So I drank another cup, and then I started having these heart palpitations.  I didn't know what it was, but it wasn't normal.  I started feeling dizzy and just panicked and went to the ER.
- (Dave) Yea, those drinks can fuck you up.
- (Lou) It was probably just a panic attack thinking I'm going to have a heart attack, but you never know.
- (Dave) Yea, you can escalate something you may not know you—All right, you know how people, sober people, right?
- (Lou) Yea.
- (Dave) They can drink those Rockstars—
- (Lou) Yea.
- (Dave) The Monsters—and I drink a lot of those, too.  Sometimes two of them.
- (Lou) Oh, totally.  It's like milk for some people.
- (Dave) So one day, I had some, and then during the meeting I start feeling sick.  I gotta get up and leave the meeting—as soon as I walk out, I start puking all over the floor.
- (Lou) Oh, jeez.
- (Dave) I'm talkin' straight up puking out of nowhere—that shit didn't happen when I was drinking.
- (Lou) No, I know.  A kid from the high school in my town died from those during football practice.
- (Earl) I was in the emergency, too, the other day.
- (Dave) Earl...
- (Lou) What happened?
- (Earl) It was like a week ago.
- (Lou) Yea.
- (Earl) Maybe eight days—
- (Dave) Earl—
- (Earl) I had these heart palpitations, you know, from drinking so much Nitro.  I needed it to drive my Uber.
- (Lou) Who is this clown?
- (Dave) It's cool, man, ignore him.  He comes here everyday, shares.  We let him say what he wants—he loves the German chocolate this one girl brings in for the group—then he goes home.
- (Lou) Whatever gets you through the day, man.
- (Dave) It's five 'o clock.  Meeting's starting. 

Order 282

- I think I'll just have the mulita as is.  I don't want any onions.
- Do what you want to do.
- You know what the difference is between a mulita and a quesadilla?
- I don't care.
- What's wrong?
- Nothing.
- (intercom, background) 281.
- One's made with a corn tortilla and the other's flour.
- (man's voice, background) 281! That's Number 281!
- Yea, you would know.
- (laughs) I asked them.
- It's not like you've forgotten the language.
- What's that supposed to mean?
- You shouldn't have done it.
- Done what?
- Nothing.
- What are you talking about?  This again?
- Why you gotta ask him for the lighter?
- Oh my god, you're still on that?
- Right in front of me, too.
- Baby...
- You might as well have blew him.
- Is that what you want to have said to me?
- You don't go to another guy to ask him to light your cigarette when he's smoking with his friends.
- So?  You were fiddling with yours.
- Oh I was fiddlin' with it, huh?
- (intercom, background) 282.
- Yours wasn't working, babe.  I was getting it for us.
- And at a church.
- (man's voice, background) That's 282!  You want your 282!
- (continuing) What are you doing smoking in front of everyone at church?
- Cause I was with you!
- I don't care.
- So you like it when we smoke together but not if anyone else sees me smoking?
- You touch his hand when he lit it for you?
- No.
- All Mexican food tastes the same, that's why these cheapskates just all get tacos, anyway.
- You didn't say anything about my blouse.  I bought it for you.
- You bought it for me, huh?  I don't wear blouses.
- (chuckling) Remember that night we were drunk and you let me paint your toenails?
- I didn't see any of the other guys' girlfriends smoking along side them.
- But I'm your girlfriend.
- Yea, believe me, I know.
- You're so mean to me.
- I'm so mean to you?
- (intercom, background) Order 282.
- No one has ever been as mean to me as you.
- Yea, you mean from all the other guys.
- (man's voice, background) Come on, 282—that's 282 everybody!
- No one has ever treated me as cruel as you.
- And where are they now?
- I don't care.
- They fucked you and left you that's where they are.  I'm the only one that's cared about you.  I'm the one that's still here.
- This isn't how you care about someone.
- Go get your fuckin' mulito then.
- It's a mulita.

Well, they can't all be winners...

- So did you believe in me or not?
- Sort of, Your Honor.
- Don't call me Your Honor, I'm not a Cook County Municipal Judge.
- Sorry, Your Magis...strate?
- (head down studying file) Why don't you just say, "Oh Masterful One."
- Is that how I should talk to you?
- Isn't that the term you were throwing around here?
- Oh, right.
- I helped you write a great one about Ralph, did I?
- Do you think more than four people read it?  I always had issues with my analytics.  I mean, sometimes the time zone and the country—
- I didn't give you all that time so you could eventually have to ask me, "So did babe ever read my fuckin' blog or not?"
- Sorry.
- All that life I put around you...
- The girls I couldn't work up the nerve to ask...
- All those roads...
- The shoes you gave me—
- You're beyond that now.
- All the branches of the a tree, I know, and I couldn't—
- (head down) Quit quoting yourself.
- This would definitely go on crushed like.
- I'm glad it's not the one you created just for your throwaways.
- No more comeback posts...
- All the times they let you off, you schmuck.
- (head hanging)  No more Today.
- (while scribbling) Looks to be the case.  I liked the fellow though.  Well, what do you want me to say...?
- What do you mean?
- For your eulogy.  I gotta hammer this thing out before we get on with it.  They're just about to be seated now...(musing) Which one did they find around the cemetery grounds this week?
- You write the eulogies?
- I write all the eulogies.
- Don't give that bozo a shout-out in my story.
- It was the most important story of your life, wasn't it?  And it didn't even—you're quite a character, you know that?
- What are we looking at with the crowd down there?
- Strike two, asshole...  So when I say if you found God or not, you want me to write, Sort of?
- (distracted) Which one of them's saying it?  Not too many people knew about my blog.
- Why do I waste my time with you?
- Hey, you must have seen me kiss the ground that time?
- The week you went cold turkey off the anti-psychotics?  No, I was busy.
- I thought you'd be softer.
- Did you want me to say, "Welcome, my son?"  I'm only what you could muster up.
- I don't know, sometimes I would draw a blank.
- So he...Sort of found God, but sometimes he would draw a blank when I asked him.
- But what if it just gets deleted?  I took a picture of this kid's painting and posted it up, what if the little twerp tries to sue—Ah, there's not even anyone else there to—
- Will you shut up!  Were you this stupid when you talked to me?
- I did what my brain told me, I guess...Christ, I forgot to edit the suicide post.  Some of the em dashes were too dramatic.
- You know for a writer, you didn't read many books.
- I just didn't feel like it, Your Honor.
- (scribbling) He just didn't feel like it...
- Are you going to write down everything I say?
- I've already written down what I need to say.
- That's sounds good, Oh Masterful One.
- You were quite a masterful one, yourself.  Is this long enough, for you?

A day of deep reflection

- Who you gonna give it to?
- Methinks thus left shalleth she be gifted.
- Don't make the other feel bad though.  Give her one, too.
- Which one should I hit her with?  Can't give them both #8, I'll fall off the bike.
- I'm not sure, hold on...
- They're about to pass—
- Don't batter up yet.
- Hurry up, I'm gonna run into a pedestrian—
- Don't batter up! Get 'em on the ride back.
- I need the turn radius for the effect of 8 to jump on her.
- You've gotten so dangerous with that thing, one day some poor girl's going to hit her breaks and go full frontal into the air.
- That's why it's not for ponyboys.
- No doubt.
- I'll make like I'm swinging the bike in the lane then go full frontal with the blue eyed xenons, drown out everyone's LEDs.
- There's a chill—
- (both) But we ain't changed speeds!
- I can't hit 'em both though with that kind of spotlight.
- No, the other will be playing understudy.
- Why you don't want to go fifty-fifty?
- I'm working on the pedestrian with the three dogs.  But I want her to know I ain't going to be picking up no dog shit...
- That's going to be a dirty garden while you two are in the sack.
- I'll tell her on the ride back...
- So much tail on this trail...
- Watch this—
- Do her a 6—Ohh!
- Take it home with you, darling.
- You just took her relationship to church, stole its innocence, scarred it for life until it became born-again Christian.
- She's going to be a sullen date come supper.
- She'll corrupt the next one.  So what should I do with the doublemint twins?
- Well, you never want to short no options.
- Right, never leave any tail unturned.
- You want her to know that you're open to her, too...but not after the other.
- Not after she sees me hammer the other one.
- No one wants to be sloppy-eyed seconds.
- How 'bout I isolate her at the end, work on forgotten girl syndrome?
- You're not talkin...?
- Cinderella.
- Cinderella's not ready.
- She'll be ready on the ride back.
- The time lapse is different from car to bike.
- I can tweak it.
- The calibration was off during stretches—you'll be shooting all over the place.
- Beauty's only for artists to find.
- Hey man, I'm not doubting you—but it can't be done with two on base, you said it yourself.
- That's the beauty of it, I'll be zig-zagging so much with 8 Approaching, they won't know who I'm honing in on.
- So?
- Then I'll cut to a 4 on Callback A.
- Yea, you'll drop her self-esteem to a minimum she sees the spotlight Betsy's getting.  Seeing a 4 from the stands will shatter any cradle of self-worth.  It's been proven.
- No doubt.
- It's going to be the worst bike ride of her life.
- But Betsy's not going to get the 4, not all of it at least.
- Why not?
- Cause you're going to swing your LEDs in her face as I tailpipe Cinderella to the 4. 
- You're going to snapkick Betty?
- Just as she starts remembering why she hates her friend in the first place.
- Genius!  You'll save her life while Betsy's chasin' the tail end of a sweet dream.

buried

I watched the tables outside near the grass from inside the dinner hall.  While walking by a few yards away to use the restroom I looked to see, curious, if I could spot some of his clothes.  I noticed a cream colored sweater in one man's arms and there weren't that many items left on the table.  While it should have been endearing, I felt them taking the last pieces of him.  I felt him dying more.  I felt him leaving then there was none of him.  I started crying while walking in.  I cried while I pissed and begged God to help me, help me, just help me.

I feel so alone and I can't feel faith.  When I cry I feel something, but I don't know if it's faith.  I feel like a worm, I feel like a human that's not long for this earth.  What have I done to my brain?  When didn't I notice?  I had time enough to notice.  Poncho came along, and he was nice enough.  He said at least you wrote something, you served out a day.

"What do you mean?"  I asked.  "What else?"

"Nothing more," he said.

bittersweet

I went to my aunt's house to go through my grandpa's clothing.  While folding we would laugh talking about him and she would smell his clothes.  He was big and wore a lot of cream colored sweaters, dark cardigans, beanies and black berets.  I told her I know a place that could use them.  We laid the clothes out on her bed and began folding his clothing to put into separate bags.  I watched her fold, and tried to make my bag presentable.  When I noticed she wasn't paying attention, I would fold the shirt in my hand quickly and stuff it in the bag.  When I think about it, I seem to prefer the clothing my parents bought him over the years to ones I've received.  I usually just wear T-shirts.  In this asshole climate, I rarely get to wear many layers, but he's old, you know?  The top of his head was bald.  My aunt and I looked through a couple articles of clothing so I could keep to remember him.  I tried on a few items; everything was comfortable.  I kept a couple light jackets hoping I can wear them in the evenings.  I didn't want to keep anything that would just sit waiting for next winter.  There's a place I know that lays out a thrift shop for homeless people.  After their dinner, they can sort through the items on the tables and pick out what they'd like.  Today in AA, someone shared a reading, the gist of which was to daily do something good for someone else without revealing your deeds.  I think my grandpa's clothes are going to help a lot of people.  He had a great wardrobe.  I also picked out a short-sleeved white shirt, the kind you can wear in the summer and not have to tuck in.  Over the white there's a soft blue and light blue design all around.  I feel free in it, and asked her to fold it for me.  Today I left the house wearing that shirt and immediately received complements about how handsome I looked.  It made me want to be outside all day, and made me joke around in my head about wearing it every day.  I rode my bicycle around the city late in the afternoon and into the evening.  The sun was pretty hard, but still in a car I'd have to roll the windows up to take in the air conditioning.  I felt handsome when I passed by women and I wasn't afraid.  We have made five posts here this month, in spite of the drought.  I have been using a computer to type and I take the laptop with me into the bathroom to write.

blogs and delusions

- Come on, don't hang up, Todd A.
- I don't know what else to tell you, kid.  There's no fire and you're not providing much coal.
- I should have never hired someone named Todd A to be my blogs and delusions agent!
- You're only as good as your last post in this industry, you know that.
- Maybe you can get me into a commercial.  We'll leverage it into a post.  I'll be the husband, you find me a wife...like Scope: 
   Gee, I can't gurgle very well, honey.  
   There goes your porn career, I can say.
- Zingers?  What happened to sit on them letters and make them bigger?
- Oh don't be so naive! The last oyster I had was on a weekend.
- Huh?
- Seafood is only delivered fresh up till Thursday.
- Whatever...and mouthwash?  What happened to you, buddy?  That's the fourth time this month you're recycling material—
- Fifth...(aside) sirunes.
- That ship has sailed with your Madame Bovary act.
- It didn't get me street cred?
- The street saw it.
- I used to google moogle her...
- The TMZ incident didn't help much either.  
- Then I just googled her.
- Why don't you sublimate that energy into a letter?
- What is this, January?
- On second thought, you don't want to be a hamster on its plaything.  You can wait till next year.
- Funny.
- Update her on your goings on each anniversary.
- Maybe I'll look for the Hemingway movie, try not to get worked up.  I am Madame Bovary, anyway.
- Yea, see it with soft eyes.
- Don't patronize me, Todd A.
- There's only one Todd A.
- I liked the part he's standing, though.  They got that right.
- The ego never fails for material.  So what's the problem, cat?
- Dog.  I don't drive much these days!
- I thought you said he was standing?
- Well at least he wasn't sitting!
- Maybe you could drive a cab for the time being, meet an interesting cast of characters.
- Can't smoke in there.
- You can get up and smoke while you're standing.  Work yourself into a pace.
- What, am I going to write on the hood of my cab?
- Then you'll look more like Hemingway.  Plus, you'll get some cash in your pocket.
- I get some cash, it's going to the Arabs, and you know it, Todd A.
- Ease up on how you say my name.
- Next thing you know I'm in the hole and they're saying I'm the head of ISIS.  I gotta go check my pageviews.

- You know that guy?
- Who?  Horseface?
- That his name?  He go by Horseface?
- That's the name I gave for his face.  Yea, I know him.
- He a friend?
- Hell no.
- Saw you was nodding towards him.  Everyone here looks mean.
- They all look it.  Some are.  I got in it with him last week.
- The one you was nodding to?
- We came to blows.  I wrestled him to the ground...or fell over him, or something.
- So why'd you nod?
- Cause he was nodding to me.
- He want to start it up again?
- Don't look it.
- You get him?
- I'm walking straight, ain't I?
- So why'd he nod?  Sign of respect?
- I doubt it, I can't remember much of mine landing.
- He get some good ones in?
- They landed.
- Man thinks you the one calling truce, by the looks of it.
- Fuck him, I couldn't feel nothing from his.
- So how you guys in the same room greeting?
- I'm here to get my drink.  He's here to do the same, I imagine.
- You cross paths, want I step in?  He got his friends?
- Shouldn't be a problem.  Thanks though.  I love you.
- I love you, too.
- Man buys me a drink, I'll accept it.  It's the respectable thing to do in here.  I don't mind buying the man a drink.
- What you guys got against each other, anyway?
- Can't remember.
- So how'd you end up brawling?
- Started drinking together.
  

Fuck You, Sinclair (extending arms)

- I'm sorry.
- If you were sorry you wouldn't have done it in the first place.
- Oh, come on, baby, what kind of argument is that?  Of course I couldn't be sorry when I did it—
- And while you were doing it, right?
- Well, it's impossible for me to think that way, along those lines, I couldn't—
- (zoo impression) Along those lines, along those lines.  That's such a copout.  You knew what was going to—you know what, I don't care.  I just don't care—I'm gonna go to my mother's.
- Yea, that's good, baby, sleep it off.
- This is it.
- What!?
- This is it, Sinclair.  I'm not going to do this anymore.
- Oh, come on.  It's a part of recovery.
- You're always in recovery, even while you're high.
- But you are!  Look, if you consider my stretch in (extending arms) the long run...
- Your stretch?
- If you look at my stretch with soft eyes...
- Oh piss off!
- What about Wrestlemania?  We were doing so good again after that.
- Yea, we were.  You know, I forgave you for Monica.  At least you were having sex with a another person.  Neanderthal that you are, that's normal human behavior for you.
- Fuck that fruit punch ignoramus.
- Ignoramus?  You looked up a new word from your cartoons?
- She seduced me.  You know she spiked our Gatorade that day.  I told you.
- Oh piss off, Sinclair.  You were looking for a drinking buddy...but I don't care anymore.  I'm not going to do this.
- What are you saying?
- I'm saying Fuck you, Sinclair.
- Come on, I was cool after Wrestlemania.
- Yea, for like a month.
- So then I got back to you again.
- Yea, for another month!
- I'm sorry!
- I'm going to my mother's.  It should give you time to delete all the porn from the computer.  I'll be back to get my stuff.
- I'm sorry.
- You can keep the computer.  You know, I'm done thinking about you, wondering what's going to happen when our neighbors find out you really liked their profiles—
- I can't do this right now.
- When my cousins find out...their husbands find out.
- Can you at least wait till I—I can't think!  Can you wait till I clear up my head and not yell at me.
- I'm not your mother, I'm not yelling at you—Fuck you!  And who's that one?  Is that DP & Bruiser's new escort?  Oh good memories.  That's a lot of angles, Sinclair.  You're a subtle artist!  Are you sure you don't get in some shots of Bruiser's trunks?
- Please stop, baby.
- Maybe I'll do that.  And then I'll call him and tell him to come over.  I don't have to worry about him—
- Fuck you!
- He'll build me a good one.
- Fuck you!
- No Fuck you, Sinclair.  Hold on, let me grab my photo albums.  You're going to be the only guy in the world who's single and still not faithful.

kicking and screaming (apropos of the drought)

- Give it up for our next contestant.
- Thank you.  All right, all right... First off, how many of you think you're better than me?  I see...so you think you're better than me, huh?  Usually it's just one or two people next to me at the bar who think they're better than me.  All right...simmer down now, folks. You ever have one of them days where you doubt your perception of reality is solid?  Oh...I don't either.  Let's see here... How bout this: You ever picture what your friends will look like when they're 80? And then when you try to picture yourself there's a big red X because you'll be dead by the time you're 40?  Oh...

...I don't either.

You guys like the macabre stuff, ey?  Let's see, do you ever distrust everything and feel like you don't know anything about what's really going on in the world, the presidency, the economy--that the world is really controlled by 5 or 6 people about whom you've never heard, will never know...and they're all just laughing at us pursing our dreams?  Yea?  I wish I was one of those people.

I wish I was like the 7th person.

Don't all clap at once, now.  Hmm, what else?  Do you ever have some discomfort in your body, can't walk right or feel your back uneasy, and you catch some stranger looking at you, as a stranger would, and you kind of embellish it a little, your pain?  That in that moment you feel the person that may otherwise hate you for, you know, your race, ethnicity, color whatever, what you incite in his mind, he may just see you as another person, someone who's just in pain and acknowledge it to himself—even though you're not really in any pain?  No?  Oh, I don't either.

How bout you two, are you together?  Yea?  You dating?  You're not sure, yet, huh?  The one that said "Not Sure" wants them to be more than friends.  I'm just kidding--you know if you guys get closer you can start having sex, right?  Whenever you want.  You guys can get together, and agree to have sex.  Not here though, not literally closer here. Oh, what am I saying?  That's a given!

...Have you ever pictured each other naked?  Ooh, tough crowd, tough crowd.  I know how awkward it must be for you if I'm not funny.  I know there's at least a couple of you self-absorption posterboys in the audience who get neurotic about being an audience member...Yea, I picked you out during the last act when he made the audience get up and have to dance.

I'm just kidding, folks--Cahoooooooooo-kie crisp!  You know I'm newly married?  That's right, I'm domesticated.  It's great--Listen, I was stationed in one of those wars we're in, with ISIS, or jihad, or the Soviets or whatever, and my battalion was in a do-or-die situation we had to go into that building; oh, we were facing imminent death we had to risk our lives to save the country...I wouldn't go in cause I wanted to keep having sex with my wife!

That was last week... You know, my wife and I run a business together?  We make breakfast burritos.  We close at 11AM sharp.  You know it's amazing, you come to this country, you pursue your dreams, get married and have sex with your wife...then one day you get beat up by three longshoremen because you won't make them a burrito at 11:05AM!

Yea, you know, there's a lot of violence in this country and you're forced to protect your own sometimes.  One night, someone broke in to our place of business and set the alarm off.  When we got there, the entrance window was shattered oh everything was a mess and the cops hadn't showed up yet.  My wife says to me,
"Go in and have a look."
I tell her,
"Why don't you go in and have a look?"

But those guys were big fans of our sauce, the longshoremen--what am I saying?  They made me give them the recipe so they could sell it on the pier.  Then they made me make them the breakfast burrito as my wife watched.

We didn't have sex that night.

He told me to put more bacon in there--go on, put more bacon in there! he said.  I told him it was unfair, it was too much! I told him, but he called me a baconbitch.  My wife started goading them on, She told me not to get cheap on them, I guess our unresolved issues started coming to light.

One of the longshoremen's names was Al.  It was shortened from Albatross cause his dad hated him probably.  That's why he's violent and got such a hungry streak.

I'm losing you, huh?  Good.  Go.  Fine.  Good.  Stay there.  You know the difference between grape and grapefruit?  The grapefruit works for the government.  What else--Oh,dogs!  You wanna talk about dogs?  Yea, I got two dogs...I feed them some of my scraps they're so cute, you know.  Here's some pictures of them.  Just scroll and pass the phone around.  You know, dogs are a lot like humans.  That's right, they are.  They're not dumb, so if you're crying in front of a 10 year old one-eyed or cock-eyed, or stitch-eyed pitbull on his second run in the kennel...move the fuck on, please!  Thank you.  That should give me street cred...  Yea, I just throw the tid-bit food on the ground while I'm eating, the whole floor is their plate.  I don't want them chewing my fingers off...I lost a couple while having sex with my wife!  Oh! you laughed don't deny it!

Anyway, the little fat one doesn't initially eat what I give her.  She collects all the food and makes herself a dinner plate like humans.  Yea, just pass it around.  If you flip through there's some pictures of my mom and aunt scuba diving.  They're really great.  Everybody look to the person next to you, make sure no one steals the phone.  Can't afford it, the security here is only licenced to carry a cap gun.  This place used to be a bootcamp for puppies.

I'll tell ya, I'm so jaded, when I have nightmares, I open my eyes and say dryly, Mom....Ah, I don't know,  I cry a lot for no reason, sometimes in my dreams, sometimes after a gig...sometimes my jokes are funnier in my dreams... I don't know, maybe I need to get into a fist fight,... Who wants to fist fight me?  You there, the enthusiastic sully looking figure.  Yep, you.  Come on up....  Yep...and we'll fist fight.  Don't be shy...I've give you the first hit.  Come on, I've been on your wife's Facebook profile...while you were sleeping.  Come on, everybody, cheer us on.  Say, Dicks and cock and cunt and balls and dicks and cock and cunt and balls and... 

 (fist fight ensues) 

Just Another Day

(ring-ring)

- Yea?

- Good morning starshine...

- Lou?  What time is it?

- 3:35.

- What?  Why?  

- You can tell my wifey tone?

- What happened?

- Did it help at least?

- At little...wha' happen, Lou?

- Need you down at headquarters.

- Now?

- He wrote her a letter.

- So what, was it long?
- Dog barking?
- Yea, you ruined her groove.  Lou, the perp's whole blog's a letter, a masturbating letter.
- I know you guys have been working hard.
- Oh, sleep, oh, yea.
- You know what Shakespeare said about sleep.
- Yea, he's for it.
- Didn't some other guy named Bill or Sam—
- Ok, well, I'll see ya' Lou.

- Special week—It's her birthday, Earl.  He's trying to put on his best front.

- What, in a cheap tuxedo with missing teeth?  How'd it sound?

- Convoluted.  He slips in a few rants at least.

- Ah, the good old days, huh?

- It's got novelty value.

- Wait—so what?  Files don't put that under "Holiday Warnings."  What about Dave?

- Told me to fuck off.  Told him to go fuck himself.

- Well, then I reserve the right to do the same.  I'm working on my own letter.

- Bet you were sleeping comfortably like a masturbating buffoon.  Ah, it's all right, buddy, you can take pointers along the way.  He's a great writer.  Come on, Earl, half the staff is either under the storm, the weather, or researching the weather.  They're fans of his work.

- I don't get it.  What's the big hurry?  He can't give it a few days?  It's the weekend.

- He thinks she's right at the end of it, more so now.

- How many time zones is this schmuck working with?

- We had him seeing her in two different places at once, see if we can't expedite things up, what with the budget cuts.  

- And he don't catch on?

- Oh, he thinks she's on the phone with her mother while making travel plans.  You know those kids that lie because they have a big imagination?

- Fuck him, I have a big headache.  I was drinking tequila with Hanna's dad—we don't live together or nothing.
- Where does it say you can't—
- Yea.  Hanna said to go with him but he pushed me away.  I lost track of time and when she busted in, he was on the ground with his arm in the toilet.  He had accidentally turned the bathroom heater on with the light.

- That's rough.

- Yea I took a picture.

- We need to nip this thing in the butt, Earl.  The tech guys went home early; based on recent activity patterns, I said it was okay.  Seemed harmless.  One of them's barely seen his kid.

- What we wouldn't do without our nerd angels.

- Then it got alarming.  Started checking his stats quicker than I can breathe.

- Like Chuck with the can.

- You bet.  When we left him he was trying to figure out HTML.  We figured it should keep him busy.  The guy's two worlds behind.

- Yea so what?

- Then the posts come in.  He went on a hunger strike, but forgot and posted his morning burrito.

- A breakfast burrito, of course.

- Went on some shpeel about crying her name in his dreams, and then his dog getting run over by a slow moving truck he wouldn't listen to him, he woke up screaming, or something.

- He tried to warn the truck or the dog wasn't listening to him?

- I don't know, the dog probably.

- I hate those when you can't move motion fast enough.  

- You try to scream and it ends up a whimper.

- Did the dog make it?

- Guys like him they never hit the ground. 

- You know sometimes I have dreams where I'm arguing with Hanna about something, but at least she's there when I wake up.

- Earl—

- Yea, I know.  That's a Babeness Protection Emergency.

- See if you can get in there and hit him with the pageview before our nerd angels come in.

- It's like giving the dog his reward.  I'll see what I can do.
- Good boy.

~~~~>

Dear Reader "What the fuck is this shit?"

Three cents.  The little prick's going to make me break my five for three lousy cents.  I'll break three of his fingers, call his mother, ask for directions or say it's a wrong number, all the while little pumpkin won't know what I know about her life that's going to break her shrewd heart.  If he's this stingy now, what a monster he'll be at age something.  The little monster.  He's little now but he'll be a monster later, get it?  And don't ask me why I'd ask for directions over the cord.  To a stranger, no less, you'll say.  Fuck you, reader!  She ain't no stranger—I just broke her son's arms.  I'm going to be a big part of her thoughts now.  I'll break her back; hurt her sales, she'll have to hire outside of the family.  Oh, she's got insurance for him, you can bet—the amount of pastrami they sell?  Everyone knows this place.  

It's $5.43.  Not bad.  That's why I come here.  When they raised their prices, I gave them some lip, not too much, just some.  My mistake was putting the two fives down.  I said—I mean, I was cool—I said, Hold on, I got the change in my pocket.  No fiddlin' no nothin' I took out the 40 cents from my pocket here it is kid and gave it to him, kicked him in the butt and sent him on his way.

You prolly want to give me the 5 back, I said, as he stared down counting the change.  I'll have it for you some other... The two fives were still laying there like a little baggie on your way to AA.  I told him the analogy—he barely spoke English.  I said stay in school kid, he said much good it did you.  I said I thought you didn't speak English, he said where's my three cents?  Poor sap's mother has him working at 3:30PM.  

He stared down at the change; he didn't want to look up in that moment.  It's a quick moment when you realize the person in front of you don't want to look up and he's too befuddled to know that you know.  Are you racked with tension, kid?  Stupid kid.  He didn't answer.  I knew he was uneasy, and this was going to be unpleasant.  So, what do you want to do?  He asked.  Even I didn't know where he was staring.  His nervousness was unnerving and it was killing my mood.  I wanted to off his entire family, his classmates, the girl he wanted to call on a landline today but has to work and the goddamn teacher for giving him all that homework.  Let me see it, I told him.

He came around the counter we pulled up two chairs and spread the busy work out on a small table and I said, What the fuck is this shit, kid?  That's what I'm saying, he said.  He sat there leaning on one arm and I kind of knew, that if I pushed him he'd fall.  When I saw the dingy piece of wet lettuce on today's algebra, I knew that my elbows were probably smeared with mustard you fuckin kid you forgot to wipe down the table first—right to the back of the head.  Up!  I said. 

He went back around and I said Just take the ten, then!  And the 40 cents?  I knew what he meant.  "Whatever," I quickly replied.  There's a v right there, man.  He heard my tone.  He knew what I meant.  He gave me $4.97 back.  The word itself under quotations.  Women have heard my tone, too.  It sounds like his father's tone.  That's why I'm divorced 5 times and living like a hobo writing soap operas and crime fighter stories while turning over in a van down by the river.  The van is the only good part of my life.  Later I sunk the van and am living with memories of the van, along with the van when it was sunk.  Stay in school kid, I said.  You can't unlearn what you have learned.  The kid was such a bozo.  I wanted to steal a freakin' avocado in its crate by the bathroom.  These Asians, they stuff all their new produce by the entrance to the bathroom.  I knew I'd be no better than the bozo kid if I were to steal it; right there I could stuff it in my pocket.  I knew they had to deal with customers all the time, who don't want their good mood to be ruined and don't care there's a family back here.  So I went back to the counter and bought a can of diet coke.  I asked if there was tax on top of the dollar and he said No.  I had changed my tone but I still don't like him...that...that bozo kid, man!  I bought my coke and sat down knowing I was about to steal an avocado and there was a v in it.

When he said my sandwich was ready, he asked if I wanted some ranch with it.  His mom never asks me if I want ranch, the bitch charges me for it.  I said I didn't need it and went over to the condiment section, which was by the bathroom and the crates, and stared longingly at the avocados.  I squirted some brown mustard onto my pastrami, damn near empty, I said, and looked up at him, real dirty.  The sandwich was delicious.  I asked him if they don't have that one Nora Jones song on their jukebox, Don't Know Why.  He said this is a donut shop, we don't have a jukebox.  I gave him another dirty look.

this little babies gonna be called worcally (wrg)

I'm having a good day mentally but no so much worcally.  And—and this black guy on a bicycle called me brother, which was like, spot on.  I would have ran him over with my truck if he hadn't said anything.  Yea, I had to make an illegal you turn so what I remembered gas was cheaper down the street no problem, and he smiled—him he smiled*, he said, Watch yourself, brother before I could plough into him.  I was looking somewhere else, you know?  But, I mean, I still I got the brother out of him.  

He can't take it back—I'm too far away.  And I basically saved his life by not running him over.  I would've taken the brother out of him, you can bet.  I mean, he doesn't drive a truck.  Babe, he doesn't drive a truck—I drive a truck.  Whoomp! whoomp!  Okay, that was wrong.  I mean, he might drive a truck...black guys drive trucks.  Okay, look, I'm running around.  I'm late.  Who's that?  It's me again—I'm talking.  Can you feel me?  Feel me here, and here.  Now feel my heart again.  I've had to make two trips back already, to previous places that I had been and was not supposed to have been again, but, I mean...I don't know...I keep forgetting things—I'm so excited!  

And then in the morning I made a left turn like an active driver, whereby I don't hold up traffic at the stop sign but get in the middle lane once oncoming traffic dies down and wait for space or a nice one.  Stop signs are the devil.  They get away with so much and they'll get in your way, even if it's clear, you can bet.  Cops know this, but don't think of them as cops, but police officers, unless you're married to one—don't tell them we've been betting either because it's useless they don't need to know everything, next thing you know you're giving away your grandmother.  You can say I'm a copwife or a man's cop at the local jive bar.  Fuck stop signs.  They are the poor man's red light.  

And this guy let me pass, he was nice, but I wasn't paying attention and the car behind him honked and he drove past eyeglaring me.  I tried to yell out,  No!  No! It's not what you think come back!  But he was far away two far aways and I was in one despair so I held my head with one hand no big deal stuck the middle finger out with the other to let the guys know, Go on without me folks, I'm not going to make this round.  Ah, he's despairing, they'll say.  

I was looking down at my coin jar, that's what I was doing.  But I wasn't counting it, it's not what you think.  It's not really a jar, it's a cup holder.  I was staring at it you don't understand I wasn't thinking how much I had in it I'm not one of those guys dammit that knows how much is in his coin jar—ah, it's not even a jar!  Now you know where I keep the coins in my car—it's not even a car.  God, it's a truck!  You know everything about me, you know that I've been looking at my cup.  You're gonna break in because you know where I keep my coins you'll look for the cup holder you son of a bitch oh shit it's the cops writing me a ticket

rgw.

* Who?  That one? 

- No, not him.  He's a sully little figure isn't he? 

- It's no brainer.  You smile at people.  

- That one. 

- Look at him, he's still got it.

yelling aside

- (Pam) Hey!  You have to pay for that.

- (Maury) Oh, I'm not going to pay.

- (Pam) Maury, he has to pay for that!

- (Maury) Oh, don't be silly, Pamelavalich.

- (Pam) He's stealing my lemonade!  (aside) Hey, come back here!

- (Maury) What, the fountain drink?

- (Pam) Yea, I saw him pour it in. (yelling aside)  Hey, you owe me for that lemonade!

- (Maury) Oh, it was probably just ice.

- (Pam) Maury, I saw him pour it in!

- (Maury) Who?

- (Pam) That kid in that group right there!

- (Maury) Is he black?

- (Pam) I don't know, Maury, look at him.  Is he black?

- (Maury) Yes.

- (Pam) Then why'd you ask me?

- (Maury) Oh, look, there's some white children in the group, too.  It's good that they're stealing together, Nancy.

- (Pam) What?  He stole the drink!

- (Maury) Come on, Pamelavalich, let's talk about the possibility of you and I dating.

- (Pam) Maury, he has to pay for that drink.

- (Maury) Oh, look around you!  

- (Pam) I am!

- (Maury) I've stolen five candy bars since we've started talking—here, look, they're in my pocket.

- (Pam) Maury, I can't let them keep stealing from the store.

- (Maury) Who?

- (Pam) People who keep stealing.

- (Maury, Passionately) Pamelavalich, look at me!  I have a chocolate bar in my pocket!  Here, feel it—

- (Pam) Let go of me, Maury!

- (Maury)  I wish I could tell you to feel it under different circumstances—but I can't!

- (Pam) Let go!

- (Maury) Here—and in my back pocket next to my wallet.  It's next to my wallet—but I'm not going to take out my wallet, oh don't be a putz, my darling!

- (Pam) Oh, What am I to do—(breaking away) I'll call the cops!  Sandro, file a police report.

- (Sandro) They'll say he's just a kid, ma'am.

- (Pam) What am I to do, Maury?

- (Maury) Come away with me!

- (Pam) If I let him back in, he's going to steal again.  If I don't he's going to say he's black.

- (Maury) He knows nothing about love, Pamelavalich.

- (Pam) Maury, do something!

- (Maury) I'll fight him for you!

- (Pam) You would do that?

- (Maury) Anything for my chocolate bar.

- (Maury, outside) Hey kid, you got my lemonade?  Here's 5 bucks.

- (kid, walking away) I love the number 5!