It was a cool Halloween morning when I got my AD 74’s in a town founded by an Irishman, a town nobody knows, and nobody cares about —I finally got my 74’s.
“Careful your heart doesn’t burst in your chest, kid.” She didn’t really say that, but maybe I heard it that way.
F90.0
“You got em?”
“Yeah, we got em. Hang tight,” the sweet-talking woman behind the counter says to me. She’s got this little blue and white monster hanging out on top of the counter holding down the fort for her as she walks back and forth. It has this permanent little evil grin, but it’s squishy.
A cute little girl with fuzzy purple boots and white ribbons tied to her socks smiles at me as I realize I’m sitting next to adult diapers. I look above and I see what I think are words scratched in the in-between of the gypsum board ceiling. But they are not words.
In the bathroom, a yellow paper instructs the ladies on how to properly dispose of sanitary wipes, and a white one about cleaning the damn mop, so it doesn’t smell! I can’t help but notice the irritated tone in the writer’s words.
Abusers made it a pain in the ass to get these 60 74’s, control, control, you only get 24 hours, better hurry up butter cup.
11:01 am in front of the post office 2.5mg —nothing.
12:34 pm another 2.5mg, but I notice no difference.
“But
Hell
I finally got my 74’s and you sure as shit stressed the hell out of that guy at the airport, didn’t you, Hunter?”