Brokenhearted in Bakersfield

 

18 - LET’S MAKE A DEAL

The next morning I crawled out from under my trailer to find a notice attached to my door.  I had been locked out of my own home for non-payment of rent.

Standing there, in the brilliant light of another hot Bakersfield afternoon, I contemplated this unfortunate development.  Then, while I surveyed the heartbreaking wreckage of Broken Heart Park, it occurred to me that no one was named executor of Edna Peevy’s estate, and I got me some ideas.

Now, as close as me and Edna was, I was confident that if she’d had a last wish (other than, “Please God, don’t let that train kill me!”) her dying words would be for me to oversee the disposition of her worldly assets.  Or at least, she’d want me to hock what ain’t been entirely wrecked.  With this blessed assurance in my soul, I went and combed over the remains of Edna’s coach.  Tossing aside chunks of trailer in a fevered search for what looms I could heir, I could only hope that the pink fuzz attached to various pieces of twisted tin hadn’t come from familiar bunny slippers.

Unfortunately, most everything around was smashed to bits, and not what you could call high quality bits neither.  Digging around, I’ll be damned if I didn’t come upon an un-broken case of Bursting Pride condoms laying in the back of what was once Edna’s bedroom closet.  Next to that sat a shoebox filled with bags of natural fibers.  She must’a lifted the condoms back when she was cart-pushing at PayMe’s Food & Drug, but I have no idea how she afforded all that hemp.  Right off, I figured I could make a couple’a bucks selling unused condoms to the kids over at Burger Prep, and maybe I could peddle some of my special “Do-It-Yourself-Rope-In-A-Baggie” kits.

So with a case of Bursting Prides under each of my arms and my pocket full of zip-lock bags, I hitched and hiked my way over to the other side of Stardust Acres next to the strip mall containing the campus of Burger Prep.

Wasn’t no time before I spotted a likely duo, a pair of pimply flippers-in-training, idly leaning up against the wall outside Tito’s Reggae Rasta Taco Stand.  Both had their heads shaved to the wood with short orange spiky tufts shooting out here and there.  The male had a bullet hole tattooed to the side of his head, and the female had a skull tattooed on the front of her face.  I was sure they’d be in the market for my condoms, what with their low-riding pants hanging halfway down their legs.

I approached cautiously, using their native dialect.  “Yo, whassup, bro’?”  I bounced my head in an affirmative gesture.  “Might wanna be cool, man.  Hey, you and the ol’ lady’s pants is saggin’ on the down low.  Are those boxers?  A word with your mother.”

They glanced at each other then placed their hands, with thumb and index finger extended, against their foreheads.  I figured they was make’n some sorta gang sign for peace, so just so’s they’d know I was getting down with them, I flashed the signal right back.  The female slid down the wall to the sidewalk laughing.  I knew I was becoming accepted.

Since I was hitting it off so good I asked a question that’s been bugging me for years.  “Guys, what’s with the nose rings?  What do you think God gave you nipples for?”

Not missing a beat, the pair of urban delinquents pulled up their shirts in demonstration that God’s designated ring site was full.  Nodding with nonchalant coolness, I figured this would be as good a time as any to get down to business.  “So, could I interest you two in some reasonably priced Bursting Pride condoms?  From the looks of it there’s no telling what the two of you might have contracted in the past, but don’t you think whatever it is it should stop right here?”

The female became agitated, “Fuuuuuck you.”

“Not without a Bursting Pride you don’t,” I replied trying to gain an upper hand.  “Before the main event,” I yanked a baggie from my pocket and shook it in their shining young faces, “how about a career choice?  How about a job in the natural fiber business?  I can let you have this fine Do-It-Yourself-Rope-In-A-Baggie, plus two Bursting Pride lollipops, and all for only twenty bucks.  Hey, what do you say, dawgs?  Some heavy hemp and his hot little horn hermetically sealed for only twenty bucks?”

I confidently crossed my arms and extended two fingers in a cool gang-sign.  But it was immediately evident to me this was not a good move on my part.  The male bristled and jumped off the wall and charged right at me.  “Asshole!” he challenged me.  “You can take your stems and seeds and shove ‘em up your ass!”

The female spit on the ground.  “And use one of your condoms to keep it safe.”

Well all I know is, no one likes being talked down to by a smart-mouthed burger-flipper, even if she is prenatal.