Friday, November 12, 2010

New Sunday Driver.

"I have returned to the land of my birth. I want to be ready." Jesus freaks. Backsliding, Bible thumping, Saturday morning door to door Kirby Vacuum sales. Where's those cookie peddling tramps in funny hats? The little blue boys slangin almond popcorn for 20 bucks? The numb ambient volume of this catastrophic environment is overwhelming to my virgin eyes. My nuckas, I need some dirty. A crackhead sellin a hot toaster. That dude from Menace to Society offering two cheeseburgers or a blow job for a fix. Normality.

I call up Jesper. (My new chauffeur.) I hired this fucking dude right off the greyhound bus. He's a riot. His family is not Amish but, Mennonite. The difference being technology and capitalism are cool with them. His wife Orlinda doesn't like me or the fact that I am Jesper's employer. I require my driver's to speak with me in a language that can only be described as friendly gay bashing. I call him a cock guzzling, gerbil herding, man sipper. He is not amused. He offers his two weeks notice.

I insist that Jesper use this as a stepping stone to foul mouthed bliss. It seems that driving and talking are too much for this guy. He asks why we are driving around suburbia with no true destination. I fire back with the swagger and lingo of a shittastic seasoned pro.. "Because this is where the other half live. Those people you and your wife wanna be. That American dream you hope to obtain by driving a narcissistic, alcoholic, chain smoking, bastard like me around." Jesper looked puzzled. He asked, "How is it that you care so little for what people have worked their whole lives to attain?" I answer. "Shut the fuck up and drive the car you weasel dick, sheep scrotum, sperm hobbit."

Jesper doesn't realize it yet, but I need him. His blind faith in something so intangible is fascinating to me. Not his religion in particular but his motivation to take the first job in a craigslist ad to be my chauffeur. He doesn't realize my intention yet. I offer him a sip from my trusty flask. He declines. I offer him a Camel Wide. He says no. I am impressed and pissed at him in the same moment. "Let's go see the horses at the track." I say. "Then onto the Jiggly room." I call Orlinda and tell her that Jesper will be late getting home.

1 comments:

Come At Me Bro on November 12, 2010 at 1:03 PM said...

Nice info!

Post a Comment

 

Stop scrolling, you are at the bottom

All Content copyright Angry Step Kid LLC®

Angry Step Kid® Copyright © 2009 WoodMag is Designed by Ipietoon for Free Blogger Template