Comfortable as an old chair #1

“C’mon 24! You bitch! You whore! C’mon!

This is my gas money!” and she’s almost

5 feet tall, 180 pounds, hair a mess of dirty blonde knots

and split ends…She’s screaming at the television screen.

She’s screaming about quick draw lottery results. She’s

screaming in an old bar, in a small town, while I sit in the corner

sucking on dollar fifty drafts. She’s got the face of a bulldog

and the tolerance of a sailor.

Damned angel is what she is,

but I just can’t think of her name right now.