Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Goodbye Horses

  The van was dead. Again. The Van Man had forgotten to disconnect the battery before he turned in for the night. And he would pay for the lapse in judgment. That's life, he thought.
  There was no need to worry. Van Man was at the park he slept at and there would certainly be plenty of park-goers who would come along, able to give him a jump. There better be since his phone was dead, too. He had spent too much time the previous night perusing porn on his cell phone. The sleaze had drained it. That's life, he thought. Indeed, it was. Van life had a way of making a person lonely sometimes. There was only so much seclusion a Red-blooded American Van Man could take until it got the better of him. With his van and phone dead, Van Man felt very lucky that some bad shit did not go down in the middle of the night. Some riot, perhaps, brought on by the frustration that came with what had happened in Ferguson. Chaos that boiled over from anger and tension that had been built up for far too long. Hell Night did not happen and Van Man just needed a jump.
  The morning burned away and Van Man was still without a jump. He realized that people at the park were avoiding him. They had probably seen Silence of the Lambs and were hesitant to approach the van. Afraid that Van Man would coerce them into the back of the van where he would surely knock them out. They did not want to wake up in a cellar pit with Van Man above. They were sure he would dance around to Q Lazarus with his dick tucked between his legs. Of course, he had done the Buffalo Bill Dance once or twice when he was a younger man after watching the film. But that had been the early nineties, a much looser time.
  A Gentleman who frequented the park with his dog showed up and asked The Van Man if he needed any help. The Gentleman had a Prius which neither knew how to use for a jump start. The Gentleman borrowed his neighbor's Ford for the task. Van Man was desperate and conceded to allow a Ford to help his Chevrolet. Just this once..., he thought. The cables were hooked and the Ford revved. The van would not crank. A minute passed and Van Man realized the van was still in drive. It had been in that gear all night. It was not the battery, after all. The culprit was Van Man's irresponsible nature.
  The Gentleman said goodbye and drove away. Van Man was at a loss. He felt stupid and angry. But The Sun was up and warmed the land. He was alive and still had a running van. He could escape any riot that was thrown at him. But most of all, The Van Man was no Buffalo Bill. People still saw the good in him.

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