“So I got arrested… AGAIN!”
I have always been a fan of an eye catching opening line.
This one has to be in the top ten, even without checking the list.
Starbucks in the beach cities are rarely the first place scruffy types in need of a shave with a mild case of BO going on seem to congregate.
And yet, here we are.
Not to be judgemental, but lets just call this guy Inmate.
Inmate probably needed a shave when he was arrested 3 days ago.
So fast forward to today, he has a serious newly homeless vibe going on.
Sets the scene, doesn’t it?
And, as so often happens when you are eating a delicious appetizer, the main course shows up, and its even better.
“Can you believe that shit? She hits me, and I go to jail!”
In the lexicon of sarcastic blogging, I find that my mind stutters and freezes in place at trying to convey the redneck/trailer trash/meth head dirty feeling that line gives you.
Like an episode of Cops that you suddenly find yourself an unwilling extra on.
And we all know how that ends.
There is a certain glamour to shit-canning your life with meth and jail time that have always escaped me.
Maybe its the background stink of cigarettes that has taken the shine off of it.
My asthma limits my lower instincts.
Plus, my parents are still alive, which is a bigger thing than you know.
And the sad thing is, this guy is so far down his particular path that he does not even see what the issue is.
So, sitting in my ivory tower and watching him is sad, in and of itself.
The main point is, and I both hate and love being the one to point this out, is that your get what you give.
And this motherfucker has never deposited anything but shit into this particular account, but is shocked that his interest stinks worse than his breath. (Because shit is shit and nothing can change that smell. The scent companies seem to think the smell of lemons works. But shit sprayed with lemons just smells like lemony shit. This topic is its own blog post really. Focus, people!)
It boggles the mind if you think about it.
And maybe thinking about it is the bigger issue.
Except me, and what I think I put into print for the edification of the masses.
But leisure reading is necessary to gain anything from it.
And nobody reads.
So, since nobody is thinking or reading but me, what do we do now?
I got snake eyes on this one.
All I do have is my coffee and very little hope for the future.
But the coffee is good, so at least there’s that.