Tropic of Food

It was early in my life, when I was but a little boy growing up on a placid street in a small town in a small state that hovered just above Indiana--we called it Skytopia, but maybe it was listed as something else on you Atlas. I don't know. Anyway, it was when I was young is all I am saying. And perhaps I was too young, that would be for my mother to decided, but I had a great time. Playing all day with the guys in the neighborhood. They beat my head into the gutter as my other self hid in a Magnolia tree. Later, when I had children of my own, I would know what it was like to leave them, but at the time I didn't know what it was like for my father. I am getting off track. Anyway: My one desire had been to have a nice dinner. All day, without eating. So I got to [redacted] and ordered some food. It smelled like shoe polish and my stomach was chrppng.

There was a woman, I noticed, alone in the bathroom. That is when I realized that I was not in the Men's room. I actually don't remember getting up and going, but I was there. This is analogous to birth--but is the inverse of death. In any case, the story continued while I thought of and this was the up shot of it all: [but] she didn't see me.



Her voice was a laconic purr and her purse was full of clickity change. I capered and she tossed pennies at me. This is where the laughs began. I forgot my hunger and we scooted, not paying our bill or even ordering food.

We got very close.

Perhaps, too close.

I had to call my close personal friend, Kells, bail me out. He said, "I got a solution" said R. Kells and he rubbed it on my knees which were making pale little bubbles of foam. This was the first indication of my problem to come. All of this was earlier, when I was first learing about life, and R. Kells, the DL himself, was teaching me, out on a playground, dovered in woodchips. I still have them in my teeth. But I called him and knew that he'd know what to do.

His breath always smelled like firs in spore--or whatever it is plants do to get warm. I didn't know. I slept through school.

Kells was a man.

So Kells, the woman and I, we ended up in a tight spot, partially becaues of Kells's miscaluclations (regarding the precise definition of infinity and arrest record) and partially because we thought it would be fun to play on the net. Foolish me. I should have known. Don't play on a net, and don't hang out with TUNAS.

I got a call on my cell phone from the caste of Scarecrow: The Secret (thanks Oprah), but I had my ringer turned off. That's not all that was turned off.

Then something fantastic happend. The woman, Kells and I were in her car, a late model horse, this all being long after the other occurences that happened to us, that we did not incur, but before the explosion of course,--and we were overtaken by a spirit of human dignity I hadn't felt since kinderschool. Perhaps my mother could love me now--of only she would reach out.

Then we got jacked.