Sunday, September 27, 2009
so, three relatives walk out into the night.
the bastard knows that he's drivig them back to the thorough borough tonight.
no matter. the mofo logged a lot of driving time to make tonight possible and we three head off into the night, the bastard hoping like hell that he can find a spot later.
it was a good night for drinking.
for family nonsense.
and for talk about childbirth.
you see the accountant regaled me with tales of childbirth best left unsaid. a mad science drop nonetheless.
over the river and east, we speak of other crap which I cannot recall but at 2am one wonders why one's stomach grumbles.
"do taco bells in new York stay open late?" , the accountant inquires.
"I think so", i reply
"there is one on utopia open late. I used to go there during my days at the torch", the mofo concludes.
so it's a mad dash for the border.
meximelts in the brain for the bastard.
the idea of acid reflex never felt so good.
a junkie approached us while we dined. said he needed money for a cab to the subway.
i tell him that we're tapped knowing full well that the 7 train was a 20 minute walk and a walk might cure his junk sickness. he simply moved on to the next car.
i moved on to my next meximelt.