Crack: it’s what’s for dinner

17Jun08

A few things that have happened recently:

My friend Brandi and I were leaving work to catch the bus.  The bus was scheduled to arrive in less than 5 minutes, so we really had to skedaddle [I can't believe I just typed the word skedaddle.  My apologies.  Stay with me].  We were approached by a homeless woman who asked for ‘a dollar for a hot dog’ from a nearby vendor.  We had absolutely no time to spare, so we politely [well, Brandi was polite...I didn't say shit] declined and kept walking.  About 30 seconds later, I realized that I had forgotten my smokes at work, so I told Brandi “Go ahead…I gotta run back.”  ”Well, I’ll go with you and I’ll buy that lady a hot dog while I wait for you.”  We crossed the street and ran into the hot dog lady.  ”C’mon, hun, I’ll buy you a hot dog.”  ”LISTEN TO ME! LISTEN! I CAN’T HAVE THE HOT DOG!” replied Hot Dog Lady [HDL].  I was about 5 paces behind Brandi and HDL and saw HDL lean in close and say something quietly to Brandi.  After the short exchange, Brandi said “If you want a hot dog, I’ll buy you a hot dog.”  ”But it’s coming out all lumpy!” yelled HDL as Brandi and I hurriedly walked away.  I ran inside work and grabbed my smokes and then ran back outside.  By this time, we were becoming very late for the Metro, so we had to make haste and literally sprint for it.  We caught the bus as it was pulling away, flagged ‘er down and hopped on.  Out of breath [I'm a smoker], I asked Brandi “what’s coming out lumpy?”  ”She told me she didn’t want the money for the hot dog.”  ”Of course.  She need that crack rock.”  ”What she told me was that she needed the money for feminine pads because her, you know, was coming out lumpy.”  ”Oh my god!  That is the most disgusting thing I have ever heard,”  I replied.  So now, when my brain becomes dormant and no grand thoughts dot my cranial landscape, I hear HDL screaming “But it’s coming out all lumpy!”

So fucking gross.  I still don’t believe here though.  She seems like she’d sacrifice a lumpy flow for the sweet, sweet nectar of the crack rock.

 

About a week after that, my buddy Vagelis and I were at the same bus stop when a dude with a backpack stood next to us.  He started to make conversation about the weather [it's been a long, shitty winter.  More like June-uary] and such when he pulled out his pipe, took a fat rip of the crack, coughed it all out, offered us each a hit [which we quickly, vehemently refused] and put it back in his sack.  We looked at each other and both said “Oh, Seattle…” 

Oh, Seattle, indeed.  Fuckin’ a.  

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