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By the time I left the subway the sun had already gone down. I emerged from the underground in Times Square which was fine with me because I wanted to find a deal on AA-batteries for my walkman which had not worked since somewhere called Scranton.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out all the money I had left: $20.

It wasn't a lot but it was certainly enough to get me drunk. I walked into a little store and grabbed myself a bottle of vodka and a carton of orange juice. I took a few sips of the orange juice and then poured out half of it onto the sidewalk.

A couple of cripples in wheelchairs were passing and they stopped in front of the puddle as I stared to pour the vodka into the carton.

"Hey asshole", said the uglier one.

I ignored him and plunked a straw into the carton.

"Hey asshole!!! People have to walk there!"

"Not you though", I replied.

"You're a fuckin' asshole" said the man in the wheelchair as he and his girlfriend or social worker manoeuvred around the puddle.

I drank in the fluid and started to walk towards the noisest part of the square-the center division in the middle of the street where a bunch of guys in black panther outfits were standing around yapping on about the pyramids and UFO's and AIDS.

Off to one side a couple of guys were spinning on their heads to some fuzzy sounding hip-hop music blaring out of box with blown speakers.

Nearby a guy with a huge remote controlled cockroach handed out flyers with the words "SATAN IS KING" printed on them.

I sat down with my carton of booze and drank.

And drank.

And drank...until I fell asleep in a pool of puke.

 

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