10:33 a.m. / September 04, 2006 - -
busted your fucking window
All of the children who went to that place are now dead and gone, buried under dirt and flowers tossed from crying mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, and even the occasional vagabond with nothing better to do than sit in on funerals, hoping for handouts to their wax fingers.You find yourself standing at a McDonald's drive-thru in Minneapolis, and that's when the black dude with gold teeth pulls up in his SUV and tries to sell you rocks. You decline, but for two dollars, aforementioned dude tosses three bowls of supremely bomb, smelly, delicious nugget. After that there were drunken-legged girls with hiked black skirts, buttcheeks blowing in the wind. Goddesses. They pressed their tender bodies against the pane glass of McDonald's and tried not to fall down. Meanwhile, a crowd had gathered to leer and growl out cat calls; a few of them had cameras. A car of slightly chunky girls pulled up to the drive-thru and immediately started haranguing the girls who had difficulty balancing themselves. They mocked their asses, claimed the hair on their bodies to be unnatural. I asserted that hair grows on our bodies naturally, that it is a physiological process that holds within it no room for shame, and they called me a blockhead.
Later the two drunken girls would walk down the street a ways before the more drunk one started vomiting. Zach and I walked over to them to see if they needed a cab called; after a time it was decided that yes, these plastered females did. At that point a seedy indian dude pulled his car off of the street to see if the hotties needed help. Attempted to get them to get into the car with him; they declined, and a cab showed up, which led to the girls running to the cab. The indian dude followed. One of the girls fell down trying to get into the cab and he helped her up, groping her breast and leering up her skirt at the same time. She made a complaint and scuttled into the cab. The driver started pulling away and I called the indian dude a skeezeball or something similar, and then he ran out to the cab asking if he could share it with the two girls. Zach became extremely furious and started yelling at the cab driver not to let him ride with them, that the dude was a pervert, a predator. The driver didn't really seem to care or understand, and drove off. I sat quietly by the bridge railing and detached. I thought of what would result from this. Was it better for Zach to take action or for me to remain immobile? I sent positive energy. Skeezy dudes get theirs.
And he left his car behind with us, so, you know, things happen with keys and rocks, it cannot be helped.
Peace
