Pay day and The Van Man was happy. He looked at his paycheck. A sting of reality. The Ones In Charge had taken a big bite out of Van Man's ass and had left him the rest to limp on. He could have conjured a complaint or three, but what was the use? Van Man was happy to have some scratch in his pocket. He reminded himself that he was being paid great money because he taught the basic fundamentals of Lego construction to first, second and third graders. There were worse things in life that one could do to make a living. Eating dick down by the LA river was one.
The Valley in July was a mystic bitch in heat. Van Man could never find the right word to describe what it felt like. It was a relaxed beauty that permeated Her most grotesque images. And when he had a pocket full of bread, Van Man would find himself in love with Her streets all over again. Hope. Perhaps, that was the word he looked for.
The Van Man had a few bucks and the rest of the summer was his. It was hot as hell and he sweated like a pig in the van, but he reminded himself that there were always worse things. Being raped under an overpass in Studio City was one.