In the Window at Four in the Morning, Pointer Finger and Thumb Gently Pinching the Hem of the Curtain.
by James Greco
- Hey guess what: I'm walking my tiny-ass dog and I'm wearing dress slacks and dress shoes with only a wife-beater on top and talking effusively into my cell phone.
- I wanted to say: It's silver outside, between the dull street lamps, the fog and the sun just entering perception.
- You want to know something: I'm still carrying extra weight from the baby, walking diagonally across the intersection with my arm draped over Hal's shoulder.
- Check it out: The mist is on the absolute precipice of rain.
- Hey, okay, listen: My complexion has improved a lot since I started to take those vitamins. As, I'm sure you can plain see, I've lost a few LB's as well. I figure if I eat a little less and I drink a little less than Shannon will get full up off a smaller total amount of food and liquor and over time we will save money and then maybe I can work less or maybe Shannon will see how trim I am looking and eat less too and then we save even more money and Shannon will drop the extra weight she's been carrying around for the last five years.
- Don't sleep on this shit: I am riding this Mongoose I liberated from a balcony on an apartment on the next block. I ninja walked the wall, threw the bitch over the railing. The frame bent some, but the fucker rides just fine. I'm swerve driving in wide arcs, leaning way back, thinking about doin' a fly by on this fat bitch and her scrawny punk-ass boyfriend.
- Excuse me: I'm clearly walking my dog only back and forth in front of your gate. I'm still chatting casually on the cell as I walk. If you want to know the truth, I'm thinking about stealing the grill out of your yard. I'm not sure how heavy it is. I can tell it has wheels, but things like that can often be largely decorative I find. Don't you think?
- Fuck, okay, look now: I'm just trying to get this thing on home. Okay, I already had to watch Shannon suck some guy off for him winning a game a darts and I been shouting in back alleys all night. Now this do-rag is clearly on me. Well I'm on him! Fuckers always think I'm something to fuss with. I sure got this ink in my cheek and on the back of my hand for some reason.
- Shit: I'm going to peddle in tightening circles and act like I don't even see their ugly asses.
- You know what I think: I think that grill might be chained up. It might be chained to that pole or to one of those pots. I don't think I could lift one of those pots. Maybe ten years ago, but even then, those are some big pots. What I think I'll do is, I think I'll chain the dog up to the street sign on the corner and disappear out of eye shot from the house and get a better look.
- For shit's sake: He doesn't even know me. He doesn't know what I've been through. What I am capable of.
- Bitch: I know everything. Universally. Intrinsically.
- Alright: If Hal isn't going to do anything about this nigger I'm going to shove the handle bar as he cruises by and send him sprawling toward the rust water in the street at the curb.
- Watch this: I'm going to punch this fat bitch in the face and knock her on her ass.
- Pay attention: I am unhinging your gate and creeping into your backyard.
- Know what I mean: I'm going to kick her remaining teeth, then back slap his punk ass face. I'm going to hog wrestle him to the ground and hold him sleeper style, make him feel the cocksickle through my jeans on his back. Hold him and make him feel it harden and then fuck his boney ass right there on the grass embankment next to the sidewalk while that fat bitch bleeds from the mouth and slaps my shoulders.
- Wake up: This barbeque is not chained down.