there's a short list of things that can shut down thus city.
a big assed snow storm is one of those things.
so at one in the morning, the bastard decided to take advantage of the time to survey the damage.
actually, there has been a rash of busted windows on our block so the bastard wanted to make sure that he was going to write about the snow and not how some junky from the thriving methadone clinic down the block from us didn't bust my window and take the shovel out of the trunk to sell on Astor place tomorrow.
but, all car business aside, it's bad out there.
not buffalo, new York bad but, new york yuppy bad.
the kids out partying were stranded.
fighting over cabs that couldn't get out of the damn snow anyway.
the bastard will never know if some jerk named brandon ever got up from the frozen tundra to help his female traveling companions hail a cab that'll never come on 2nd ave.
the bastard doesn't care.
he just knows that his car is safe for now encased in a foot of snow.
and people he has disdain for who are fucking stranded.
and that on some level fills him with the christmas spirit.
deck the halls with some jackass
fa la la la la
la la la la jerks!
—the bastard
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