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new york and del taco
by Turtle Jones
I was driving around alone tonight, well I had my dog, but that's just a gimmie, but I watched the lights pass by me and smelled the California air. It was so cool. So fresh. I wondered what New York would be like as I shifted gears and pushed it into fifth. Kept driving and passed all the buildings and thru all the traffic. The sounds of honking as I kept going thru the streets. Back alley here and there. A few more obscenties yelled. A little more dirt on my car. Dust, smog and nicotine had formed a mighty bond on my windshield. I tried to clean it to see, but it really didn't matter. All I could do was look forward. Look into the future. What is coming up next. My hair was blowing and the night wind was sucked into my lungs. Stopped at a store and walked out to get something to eat. Prostitutes and gangsters sat around as I talked to a few of them. Just a basic "fuck you" talk as I pushed by them. This is California. This was good. My mind wandered. "So what will happen in seven days?" I got my cheap ass Del Taco and my mind went again. Light a cigar and pet the dog. Push down the accelerator and wonder how fast I could sell my car. Who would take my dog till I get settled and what the fuck was going to happen. I mean I've been everywhere, but never went to a place that I knew I was going to live for the rest of my life.
I stepped out of the car and shoved back some more cheap food and wondered if this crappy cheap Mexican food that I've been making fun of my whole life would be the last time it touches my tongue. Hell. No more Del Taco. I covered it in hot sauce and let my dog out. Walked up to my apartment while watching two bums fight over something. Fuck, I don't care anymore. Beat the shit out of each other for all I care. All I can do is be happy that the girl is asleep and doesn't need to hear this happening on the phone. To tell me I need to get out of there one more time. Open the door and hit the TV. The dog hit the "Michele Couch" and crashed out. The dog's done. She's asleep. I ate a few more bites and walked out to the dumpster to throw the rest of my food out. The bums were passing a bottle back and forth now. I guess the fight was over? Or maybe just a break? I walked back inside and sat down. Grabbed the remote. Turned on the stereo and thought about my future. I love California. But I love America more. I can change. What's a few funny accents and the Atlantic Ocean gonna do? Change me? Fuck no. I've been this way since I was born and bred into my lifestyle.
You can't break me, New York. If California can't do it, you have a snowballs chance in hell of getting me on my knees.
I will be there.
And I will be there to stay.
Get used to it.
That's my only rule. - T