Mark Bukovec (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} diekreuzen) wrote,@ 2005-07-14 21:45:00 |
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Dorks in the 'hood
So after a day of weeding, pruning, shoveling, and extreme childcare, I was damn thirsty. I walked down the hill to the Shell station to get something to drink.
I'm usually wary when I get a block from Rainier, because there's a big vacant lot where drunks like to lie around and piss themselves. Instead I see a couple of Viets. On the opposite corner, there is a pho restaurant with a bar in the rear that is a big Viet hangout. It was even more so back when it was a pool hall. Every unemployed Viet male sponging off his mom whiled away the hours there.
One of the guys is kind of old to be hanging out. He's got a buzzed head and, if not for his pastel shirt and khaki shorts, he could pass for a monk. The other guy is taller, a lot younger, and jug-eared. They both have 64-oz cups from the Shell station.
They don't look drunk though. They're bobbing their heads and looking around a lot, so I know they're up to something. Then some POS Cutlass Cierra with rims worth more than the car itself booms by. These guys get all fidgety, craning their necks, but nothing happens.
I see them in the parking lot of the Shell station after I got something drink doing the same thing. Now I'm thinking they were looking to buy drugs, but didn't really know how. I should have come back with a baggie of flour and sold them the good shit. Peace out!
So after a day of weeding, pruning, shoveling, and extreme childcare, I was damn thirsty. I walked down the hill to the Shell station to get something to drink.
I'm usually wary when I get a block from Rainier, because there's a big vacant lot where drunks like to lie around and piss themselves. Instead I see a couple of Viets. On the opposite corner, there is a pho restaurant with a bar in the rear that is a big Viet hangout. It was even more so back when it was a pool hall. Every unemployed Viet male sponging off his mom whiled away the hours there.
One of the guys is kind of old to be hanging out. He's got a buzzed head and, if not for his pastel shirt and khaki shorts, he could pass for a monk. The other guy is taller, a lot younger, and jug-eared. They both have 64-oz cups from the Shell station.
They don't look drunk though. They're bobbing their heads and looking around a lot, so I know they're up to something. Then some POS Cutlass Cierra with rims worth more than the car itself booms by. These guys get all fidgety, craning their necks, but nothing happens.
I see them in the parking lot of the Shell station after I got something drink doing the same thing. Now I'm thinking they were looking to buy drugs, but didn't really know how. I should have come back with a baggie of flour and sold them the good shit. Peace out!
