A beautiful day in Pennsylvania.
A few more days until spring. It had been a harsh winter.
I woke up late and decided against cashing my check. So I had no choice but cancel my plans.
My plans were to pay my insurance. 3 months late. Re activation fee. Late charges.
I was hungry. I needed exercise.
I didn’t brush my teeth, shower, shave or do my hair. I just got dressed.
[SCENE REMOVED]
I put my new sunglasses on. I walked out into the sunshine. I lit a cigarette.
I was on my way for two sweet chilli dogs and a chocolate milk. I start walking.
The city is dirty. People who have been indoors for an entire winter are outside. It’s not pretty. Women are pushing strollers everywhere. In fact, so many females are out strolling babies around that I even saw one I didn’t mind looking at.
A couple blocks later there is a man walking. I gain on him cause I walk faster than anyone I know.
A school bus let’s all the kids off. And a fat little 5th grade girl says to me,
“Smoking is bad for you.”
I hate her stupid tone of voice and her stupid little kid face. I ignore her.
“Smoking is bad for you!”
Again I think maybe she’ll get the hint and give up if I don‘t acknowledge her. I don’t want to talk to any little kids. Ever. Unless:
a) they’re family
b) they’re my friends kids
c) I’m selling them something at work
“Smoking is bad for you! Smoking is bad for you! SMOKING IS BAD FOR YOU! SMOKING I -”
I stopped, turned around, tilted my head at her and put my plams out.
I kept walking. The weirdo mid thirties Sunbury man I was in the midst of walking past smiles and says,
“Hey. did you know smoking is bad for you.”
I smirk without looking at him. I hope he doesn’t start talking to me. He does.
“But so is everything else you know?”
I don’t answer him.
“Everything is bad for you. Even sex is bad for you. It leads to them”
He points back at the school bus.
I just nod my head.
(A long pause) And he says,
“…But it feels so good though.”
I cross the street.
I remembered it was St. Patrick’s Day so I passed McDougal’s on the way. They open at 6am every St. Patrick’s Day.
The huge glass windows present to me that McDougal’s is PACKED.
A dude from high school is sitting with friends at a sidewalk table scattered with empty bottles. The ashtray is full.
We bullshit. I tell him I have to work. But looking at that bar full of happy daytime drunk people makes me want to party instead. I’m going to have a few hotdogs and decide whether I’m coming back for a beer or not.
He says,
“You know sometimes if you just have one; it’s hard to say no to the next one. And the one after that.”
He’s fucking right.
I walk another block or whatever to Pappy Thompson’s for my feast. I order from a really attractive older lady. My phone rings. I realize after I take the call that I am on the phone while I’m paying her and she’s not happy about it. I hang up on my phone conversation so I’m courteous. But mostly so I have two hands to handle my wallet and take the food.
The walk home was far less interesting. The way I like it.
And the chilli dogs were delicious.
