Friday the 1st
I’m taking a leak at the train station. Another guy is there leaking too. He left without washing his hands. This incident left me thinking about all the people who enter my taxi with hygienic learning disabilities. Better buy some of that anti-bacterial soap I read about so i can douche after handling money from such illbreds.
Another hooker ripped me off. She was young and quite pretty with a cheerful voice. She was also very smart. Smart broads know how to break a man down. Her charm grabbed me where she knew it hurt. Her promises convinced me. I drove to where she needed to go and gave her money for a bundle of dope. She said she’d be back in five minutes.
She entered a house that looked like a target for the wrecking ball. All the lights were out. The street was deserted except for an army of rats raiding the trash barrels on the sidewalk.
Ten minutes passed. I imagined her running through back yards or hiding again in front of the house. No way was I gonna knock on doors or blow the horn --- lots of nervous fingers pulling triggers these days. It was a tough loss but I should have known better. I wanted to swallow the unholy bitch --- bones and all.
I should have smacked the guy who propositioned me. At least someone finds me attractive. Wonder what the attraction is?
Can’t stand drunks anymore. They forever think they have enough room upstairs to make sense. They should learn to drink alone and argue with themselves. At least none of them puked.
Beer good and cold --- going down like breast milk. I need beer at the end of my shift. Twelve hours of sober thought confuses me.
Another rejection slip! Endurance the only consideration.
Time to wash the scum of the street down the drain. The arms of Morpheus await me.
from Hack Job
EXCESSIVE ATTENTION DISORDER
After my girlfriend hung the new
SILK curtains (fussing with them a bit
to make them fall
just right),
she stood back admiring
her work --- asking me
how they looked.
They looked great!
Then she unbuttoned her blouse.
They looked great too!
Touch them, she whispered.
Not the curtains she yelled out
in frustration.
