Driving the streets past midnight, you may be wondering where I am going. It is, after all, what I am wondering about you. In my earlier years, I would have been walking by myself, with a friend, or maybe a few. You and I could have easily been walking together. Maybe we were. Maybe we will be.
I remember being stopped by the popo way too many times for coincidence. Every night they would tell the same story: "We have had reports of cars being broken into in this neighborhood."
"Wow. I had no idea this area had such a high crime rate, officer."
I used to wear patchoui. I had to go to the courthouse for some reason -- prove to the state I had insurance or some other ridiculous infraction. The officer at the front snarled at me, "YOU smell like MARI-JU-ANA." Huh. That's odd. "Well.. You sir, smell like donuts." I don't think he liked that much.
Are we braver in our ignorance of youth? I like to think I get younger as I grow older. I look forward to the days where I get to sit on my front porch and wave my cane at random teenagers as they casually stroll by, "Keep your filthy feet off my lawn!" I always invision myself looking like the old man Johnny Knoxville dresses up as in The Stupid Boy Show (otherwise known as Jackass) which is only funny because I'm a chick. What the hell. I can dream, can't I?
Where are all my single ladies at? Am I the only one willing to wade the depths of craigslist? You know there be gold in these here damn hills! Maybe I will just keep it all for myself (I might be selfish like that..)
No comments:
Post a Comment