Winn Dixie ain't Publix. Anyone can tell you that. It is a second-tier grocery store hanging on to a dwindling market. That's probably why the Wrecking Ball and I felt so comfortable lounging in their plastic chairs. Permanent "B" group riders, the also-rans, the Mister Congenialities of competition. Everybody else seems to have peaked in August, and I took the month off the bike. Wrecking Ball is discouraged, I have been otherwise engaged. We both feel like we are perpetually healing and never well.
We talked about nutrition, and sleep, and brilliant green chlorophyll dumps. We talked about hating people because they are beautiful, or maybe just for acting like they are beautiful. We talked about being hopeless and drinking the mistakes- sitting at the end of a bar. We have both seen worse times than this.
Things are looking up for me lately, really up- so up I have a crick in my neck. I don't have much to complain about, and neither does the Wrecking Ball, but we would never let that stop us.
-Juancho
7 comments:
"Can't complain and yet I will."
That's me.
Winn Dixie's as good a place as any to let it all out.
"Let it all out!" I get it. That's so funny.
I'll bet you were just paying your dues to the gods, hoping they wouldn't notice that you're one of the beautiful people these days.
I knew this storm had a point of origin.
It's allot of work to look this pretty.
It's always good to look through someone elses binoculars.
There is no danger of you and I inheriting the earth, of this I am sure.
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