to shell out funds for a drugstore prescription too…but this was not as uncommon as he’d like.
“Fuck! I hate when they do this shit,” he continued to complain as he waved toward the front of the truck to the driver. “Yo’, Roy, stop a minute, man. Gotta leave a damn note.” The driver nodded, put the thing in park and rested his hands on the steering wheel. Sean ensured the break lights appeared before jumping off the back of the damn vehicle, slamming down onto the dark gray rubber of his soles, previously white, now tarnished with time and gunk. The bottoms of his feet burned from the harsh impact, but he paid it little mind. He rushed across the sidewalk, picked up each can, his chin raised high to avoid getting scraped in the face from all the serrated debris, then slammed the things back down, now empty, in their proper spot. Slicking a pad of paper out of his jumpsuit pocket, he gripped an old BIC ink pen with one hand and filled out a company Post-It note:
Larchmont-Mamaroneck Joint Sanitation Commission:
Address: 25 Lyons Place
Reason for notification: Trash is not confined in containers properly and exceeds weight requirements. Please note, this serves as a warning. We reserve the right to refuse to remove rubbish due to a hazard to ourselves and/or violations of the Larchmont-Mamaroneck Joint Sanitation Commission laws and bylaws.
He scribbled his name beneath the hand-written information, dated it, then slapped the orange sticker onto the side of the dented, plastic can that smelled of old chicken noodle soup and rotten beef guts. Jumping back on the vehicle, he rode shotgun, holding onto the steel grip as he bobbed his head to his music, enchanted, delighted, removed from the situation and place via the tunes of one of his favorite bands. Best thing ever to quiet his savage inner beast…
*
“He looks like a duck.”
“Oh stop it, Treasure! Look, Quincy and I thought you two would hit it off, be real compatible. He is divorced as well, has an adult daughter, and makes a good living. Besides, looks aren’t everything.”
“No, you’re right, they aren’t, but he has also only talked about himself this entire damn time, Erin. I guess since these stories he shares are from his own personal life. We could title those, ‘Duck Tales’…”
Erin cackled on the other end of the phone, though she knew her friend was serious and wanted her to give the man a fighting chance. Treasure sat in the quasi-dark restaurant, set aglow with vibrant candlelight, a romantic dream. Only, she was alone, waiting for her blind date to return from the restroom…no doubt ruffling his fowl-like feathers in the latrine.
“This is one case where I wish I’d been deserted. I hope he bailed on me, Erin, flew the coop!”
“Treasure, I refuse to laugh, do you hear me? Now you stop this.” The woman sounded about as sincere as a prostitute begging a john to keep his money.
“If he left out the back door of the kitchen…maybe the chefs caught him and cooked him up? Me paying the duck bill would still be well worth it.”
“Treasure, he is a good person! I refuse to be a part of this terrible conversation.” She could tell the woman was chewing on the end of a guffaw, but refused to let it out of her mouth since the man was a friend of her family. “Now listen, you are really acting up. Stop being so negative! Look, it’s been a long time since you’ve been on a real date…not this crazy stuff where you meet a guy and he tries to have sex with you then runs off. It’s time for you to get out and live a little, have some gentlemanly company. You’re only forty-three years old!”
“Forty-two. You aren’t slick Erin, tryna age me a bit faster so you can feel cuter.” Her girlfriend burst out laughing.
“Anyway, why give up on a love life now?”
“I have a boyfriend named Bob that causes me no grief. He costs me approximately three dollars a month.”
“In batteries?”
“You got it. My
“Fuck! I hate when they do this shit,” he continued to complain as he waved toward the front of the truck to the driver. “Yo’, Roy, stop a minute, man. Gotta leave a damn note.” The driver nodded, put the thing in park and rested his hands on the steering wheel. Sean ensured the break lights appeared before jumping off the back of the damn vehicle, slamming down onto the dark gray rubber of his soles, previously white, now tarnished with time and gunk. The bottoms of his feet burned from the harsh impact, but he paid it little mind. He rushed across the sidewalk, picked up each can, his chin raised high to avoid getting scraped in the face from all the serrated debris, then slammed the things back down, now empty, in their proper spot. Slicking a pad of paper out of his jumpsuit pocket, he gripped an old BIC ink pen with one hand and filled out a company Post-It note:
Larchmont-Mamaroneck Joint Sanitation Commission:
Address: 25 Lyons Place
Reason for notification: Trash is not confined in containers properly and exceeds weight requirements. Please note, this serves as a warning. We reserve the right to refuse to remove rubbish due to a hazard to ourselves and/or violations of the Larchmont-Mamaroneck Joint Sanitation Commission laws and bylaws.
He scribbled his name beneath the hand-written information, dated it, then slapped the orange sticker onto the side of the dented, plastic can that smelled of old chicken noodle soup and rotten beef guts. Jumping back on the vehicle, he rode shotgun, holding onto the steel grip as he bobbed his head to his music, enchanted, delighted, removed from the situation and place via the tunes of one of his favorite bands. Best thing ever to quiet his savage inner beast…
*
“He looks like a duck.”
“Oh stop it, Treasure! Look, Quincy and I thought you two would hit it off, be real compatible. He is divorced as well, has an adult daughter, and makes a good living. Besides, looks aren’t everything.”
“No, you’re right, they aren’t, but he has also only talked about himself this entire damn time, Erin. I guess since these stories he shares are from his own personal life. We could title those, ‘Duck Tales’…”
Erin cackled on the other end of the phone, though she knew her friend was serious and wanted her to give the man a fighting chance. Treasure sat in the quasi-dark restaurant, set aglow with vibrant candlelight, a romantic dream. Only, she was alone, waiting for her blind date to return from the restroom…no doubt ruffling his fowl-like feathers in the latrine.
“This is one case where I wish I’d been deserted. I hope he bailed on me, Erin, flew the coop!”
“Treasure, I refuse to laugh, do you hear me? Now you stop this.” The woman sounded about as sincere as a prostitute begging a john to keep his money.
“If he left out the back door of the kitchen…maybe the chefs caught him and cooked him up? Me paying the duck bill would still be well worth it.”
“Treasure, he is a good person! I refuse to be a part of this terrible conversation.” She could tell the woman was chewing on the end of a guffaw, but refused to let it out of her mouth since the man was a friend of her family. “Now listen, you are really acting up. Stop being so negative! Look, it’s been a long time since you’ve been on a real date…not this crazy stuff where you meet a guy and he tries to have sex with you then runs off. It’s time for you to get out and live a little, have some gentlemanly company. You’re only forty-three years old!”
“Forty-two. You aren’t slick Erin, tryna age me a bit faster so you can feel cuter.” Her girlfriend burst out laughing.
“Anyway, why give up on a love life now?”
“I have a boyfriend named Bob that causes me no grief. He costs me approximately three dollars a month.”
“In batteries?”
“You got it. My
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