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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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