Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Playing Uno by moonlight. Crack addicts buzzing us on the cold concrete as the train roars by a red blast of steel and popping electricity. Booze in my rucksack keeps us warm as the cold breeze starts up - but it's okay, Rocky the Dog makes it all worth while.
Finally, my traveling companion - who we will call Cookie or Alex - depending on your mood - after two weeks displacement from El Paso, Texas and living like a tramp in the concrete jungle has acquired a bunk at the Hobo Hilton. We can now get the ball rolling.
Speaking of rolling - called the Old Man for a hundred bucks in lieu for necessities. No can do, he says - just gave my divorce stricken sister $2000 for God knows what and I don't care. I am the perennial outcast with The Family, I suppose. I really feel no emotions for these people - every time I contact their petty judgemental asses all I get is grief. It is time to lop them off completely. I am alone in this world as of now and I wouldn't have it any other way. So long suckahs!
So back to The Report: Jumping through the hoops in the daytime - damn, got more appointments now than when I had my own place - and at night trolling with the Beats under the harsh lamp post lights yellow and questioning.
'Mota?' 'Rollies?' 'Smokes?' 'Beer?' 'Vicodin?' - echoes through the steel and concrete labyrinth from a million junkies - the mumbling sound of a crazed hag. Neat kindly folks - except when you need a smoke.
I stare up at the navy sky under a fuzzy moon. "So I guess it's time to start", I say philosophically to my boy - next week it is time to hit the pavement and look for work. I need cash to further my next harebrained scheme. Lucky me.

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