Not Cool



To the girls in the red El Camino/Ranchero. Thank you very much for
shouting at me at 4th and Stevens on Thursday, August 15th. You probably
couldn't tell by the flannel I was wearing to cover up my broken wrist, the
pants I was sporting to hide the gashes on my leg, or by the hat I was
using to disguise my blood-soaked, stapled-together forehead, that I was
already having a bad day. There was nothing I wanted more on my 90-degree,
two-mile-long limp from Deaconess to my truck at Rockwood than to have two
girls - likely older than I - yell at me. Thank you for giving me all the
more reason to move out of Spokane. I hope you have a better week than I'm
having

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