AN INTERESTING
OCCURRANCE
Truth sometimes being stranger
than fiction, I begin. Ladies and
germs of the audience, listen up:
I dropped my car off today, for a
routine maintenance check and
began walking from Woodbridge,
up Rahway Ave., to home. It was
early A.M. and all was well. As I
got to the local car wash, the usual
line of goons was just starting. The
kind of anals who wash their cars
to death, the machine eventually
even removing the clear-coat from
abrasion and they don't even notice.
Old men, bent at the waist; large,
stupid, and foul. Baggy shorts shorts
hold their Florida legs, weak, veiny,
and pumping shit. Thank God for
gun-control is all I can say. I'm
passing the car wash while this
group is watching the Spandex-tight
pants of the Mexican babe wiping
down a car. Drool, drool, automatic
drool. Bastard pigs - I catch sight
of the one old guy, Mr. Big Pig, let's
call him, motioning chin-scissors to
the ha-ha others, meaning to 'cut that
jerk's beard' ha ha. They all laugh.
I turn my steps and walk to him.
'Got something to say there, Buddy?'
He declines, 'Oh. no, nothing...'
Everyone shuts up quick. 'Well, I
was wondering, but at least I see
you have some brain left, knowing
at least what scissors are, you stupid
old man.' Then I motion, 'That your
car?' He says, 'Yeah.' 'Nice, I say.
I walk over to it, spit on the windshield,
and say, 'Don't touch that; I have AIDS.'
And I walk off, happily, on my way.
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