Saturday, June 19, 2010

Downtown, in a coastal city of Louisiana.

My wife of 24 years died in a car wreck two months ago. I was devastated.
I lost my computer job last month when they outsourced to Mumbai.
I got evicted six days ago I couldn’t pay my rent.
My son lives in Minnesota. We haven’t talked in a decade.

I was staying at a friend’s house, but all I could do was cry.
So I drank, too much, and got in an argument.
It’s hot outside, but cooler under this bridge.
I didn’t know grass couldn't grow here.

I’m so overwhelmed; I don’t know what to do.
I read the front page and it gave me some news.
There’s been oil in the gulf for 60 days, and things are extremely bad.

Fuck that. I want my wife back.

Here’s the end of the wallet story.

Two days later, I asked the girl at the counter, “Did a guy come in and get a wallet.” She looked uneasy.
“Um, yea, they come and got it, a while ago. Well, um, somebody come and got it for him. It’s your wallet?”
“No, I’m the one who returned it.”
“Whew, I thought someone took ya’ wallet.”
“Did it have the money it?”
She was offended.

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