...

i heard a voice telling me to get the fuck out of line, and for a moment it was unclear whether or not the voice originated in my head. i turned around, half expecting a fist to meet my turning head. what i found was a heaving chest belonging to a man with six inches and forty pounds on me. the agitation etched on his face added to the chilling effect he had on my inner child.

who was i to argue? this was but a small bump in this week's events and i'd forgotten what i wanted to buy anyhow.this shit with kenya needed to be cleared up before anything else would effectively register. the six foot four latino in front of me was the most immediate, yet least pressing of my problems. how did i fall in love so quickly, and why did it have to be with her? i didn't expect these problems when i'd asked kelly what she was doing after work, but i guess there are always consequences for your actions. fuck, where'd i put the coke. a line or six would be of great service right now.

i just wanted to write the quintessential american play. now this.