Had a run in with some kids in the park. High school kids. One of them looked like he wanted to beat my ass. Talked like it too. They were getting hammered on the hill, it’s Easter break, and a couple of them were holding up their buddy who couldn’t walk. Just look at the path homie. Just look at the floor. The big guy, the oldest guy, glared at me and was like hey, what’s up homie. Something something nosy people get it too. What the fuck was he talking about. I wanted to understand and say the right thing so I could look “cool” to these hardass EXP gangsta teens. But, all I could say was, what?
Something something, you gonna piss people off, staring like that. Oh Jesus. I don’t give a fuck how drunk he is, I’m sure he could kick my ass, and there are fifteen of him all wearing the same color.
Oh, dude, I was just ah, your friend seems a little fucked up.
I was reading Charles Bukowski. A collection called Septuagenarian Stew. In the future, everyone give your books simple fucking names. Give your sons simple fucking names, so I can say “Darkness by John Jones.” Septuagenarian Stew by motherfucking Charles Bukowski. Thank God I wasn’t listening to a Fiona Apple record.
One of the girls got between us and was like, hey, I’m peaceful. I’m the only one of them who’s peaceful. Good to know. My cat was with me, the rest of the girls started congregating around the cat. Be cool, cat. Don’t get my ass beat. The girls were sweet; they kept their men in check. They made peace. They’ll get pregnant by some hardass, soon, maybe they already were. But, thank you, for not letting me get my ass beat. I remember when I wandered into the Hill district in Pittsburgh and dudes started screaming Johnny Gammage, motherfucker! and throwing bottles. Johnny Gammage was a black guy killed by the cops. Or, a guy killed by the cops and I’ll let you check off the race box. The girls held the dudes back from stomping me. These ghetto girls, trying to keep their men out of trouble, trying to keep pussies like me from getting stomped– you never see that shit in Denny’s fight videos, World Star Hip Hop videos, but I see it every time some gangbanger is about to kick the shit out of me. Their girl stops it. They must recognize that my beautiful face should stay pristine.
It’s a… like, it’s a collection of short stories and shit.
Short stories? Like some Shadow Games shit?
I don’t know what the fuck Shadow Games is, but, say yes. Yes.
That’s some Gypsy shit right there. That’s some Jedi mind control shit.
Now he thought I was a Jedi. What the fuck were these kids on? That’s not some shit you say from drinking. You don’t assume a random book someone is reading is about gypsy mind control. Was he on PCP? Whateverthefuck it was, they left. Staggered away slowly. Just drunk kids. They’ll be hard someday but not yet. Out there living lives where shit actually happens while I look for new ways to jerk off.
There were a few kids left up on the hillside yelling Hey! Yo! EYYYO!!!, maybe at me, but, I didn’t want to talk to them. They hadn’t heard I was a mind control wizard. They’d just kick my teeth in when I told ‘em I wasn’t the droids they were looking for.