Peg Life Vol. 18

Back in '92 Screwball Jones drove down to Long Beach to pistol whip his second cousin A.J. in the back of the head. He was good that way. But maybe then again that's the wrong thing to say. He was dyslexic, had forty-two wallets. The one has little to do with the other. But he would hear none of it. His backward money collection was his prized possession. He showed it off to everybody. Crisp notes, corroded coins, cancelled cheques, U.O.I.s. Reality blindsided him, as it is commonly wont to do, with a truck. He fell hard for the driver and it lasted a month. It occurred to him as he was leaving the hospital that when she sped away leaving the pile of broken ribs and tibia on the pavement she had not left her phone number and he had no way to contact her. He fell hard again in the parking lot. This time he got up and walked away.
Sunset Perry fell for a waitress in teal. He'd never the seen the shade of red that colored her lips. Like chewed meat and brake lights. She slid a plate, two eggs and toast, onto the formica table. She even brought the syrup without him having to ask. How the hell did she know he liked syrup on his toast? He never found out. He paid his bill to the squat wrinkled lady behind the register and left. Turns out it was early onset senility. Perry came back and asked the waitress on a date. She said yes. And forgot. Perry stayed awake all night but it didn't help. She called when Perry had gone to the corner store. He ate canned soup in the salad days and now he was buying it again. He'd have bought youth in a can if it was 99 cents. He knows there's so much for you and he'll tell it like a secret. When you stop reacting to the word razorblade you can have it back.

Tony Hawkins is all about losing