A hangover like
a mescaline high. I don’t walk I stagger. The phone is shut down. Shut off shut
in. I don’t have a doorbell for obvious reasons. There was a loud banging. Ex girlfriend?
Ex wife? Cops, what? I open the door and it’s some rainbow family. Dad’s got a
grey streaked pony tail, mom was a cute blonde two teenagers one white one
black. They said they have something to say to me. I told ‘em im busy I’m not
dealing with pushy Jehovah Witnesses today. They kept insisting and finally I said
what? The bowl-shaped hair do kid looks at a piece of paper “we did something really
selfish last night” this long prepared pre-sentencing statement; and I’m like
what, what the fuck? I grabbed a beer and my smokes and these juvenile delinquents
confessed to stealing the mustang logos off my car. What? I asked where they
were, the bowl shaped haircut kid said: the police have them. The police have
them! I said, the police have them! Good lord. I looked at the rapidly aging
parents and they nodded. I told ‘em that I did a lot of things I need to be forgiven
for and it’s cool. The parents were all about restitution and frankly they were
cool. I told the kids that they shouldn’t be doing this shit. Christ.
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