Appetite for Distraction – Another Day.

He wakes up. He is ready again for the bureacracy again as he walks to the bus stop and waits for an hour as a bus fails to come and his hands are cold and finally he get on a bus and then gets off the bus and waits in the cold again and farts loudly in the empty street and then round the corner many joggers appear but where are they appearing from it is so early in the morning and they are jogging and he is still farting and he stops but they run through his cloud and they know that it is him because he is the only one there on the street as they struggle through the stinking cloud he has created and then the bus arrives but it is too late they already know that it is him. Then he is at the mva again and this time he manages to explain what is going on and he is told he needs new proof of address so he walks to the nearest Staples. It is an enormous warehouse of stationary and there is a nice lady who helps him and a nice gentleman who helps him and he feels like he is the only person in this giant quiet pleasant smelling cavern. He prints out his new proof of addresses and hopes he remember to change his passwords later for his accounts because he does not trust public computers. Then he returns to the mva and he gets his number and he waits for a long time and then the lady helps him and lo and behold and hallelujah there is a record of his passing his driving test so all he needs to do is to be reconfirmed by Homeland Security and retake his legal test and he will have his license and hopefully they will not put him in prison and throw away the key for 60 days. He reads a sign that suggests he become an organ donor. He reads about Assange and it is insightful and a hatchet job and both or neither depending on your current view of him and what he was and is and will be as he sits in the Ecuadorean Embassy slowly going insane trapped. He hears families waiting and friends making inappropriate jokes. He walks by the Mexican food truck which is one of the finest food trucks he has even eaten from. There is sniping about the Gold Medal being given unfairly to Russia for the figure skating. There are arguments about words sniper or marksman terrorist or freedom fighter chips or fries crisps or chips potato potato. A teenager has overpowering perfume sickly sweet that fills the bus. Paperwork madness ordered into meaning. Homeland security background checks. Something has happened. Something that is important and meaningful. There are buses and cancellations and donuts and coffee and pain and lasagne and house of cards and very quiet tension and so so so so so so many car commercials. He goes to sleep.

Published by

The Sleepcoat League

Armchair anthropologist, sometime scribe, freelance philosopher, amateur artist, part-time poet, musical maven, alliteration aficionado.

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