Pooper

And so, like, when I was in Texas last month, I stayed at Lou’s house for a couple of days. And she went with me when I dropped off my car to have the guys look at the A/C.

So I dropped off the Element and got into Lou’s car and then the guy who wrote up my order (Leon, I think it was) came out to say something to a lady in denim and big frosted hair. And then he came over to Lou’s car and I rolled down the window and he asked did we want to hear a sick joke.

Lou and I looked at one another and rolled our eyes, like, dude, you don’t know who you’re talking to. Then we said yes.

And Leon said it wasn’t really what you’d call a joke but (glancing at the crust of bird shit on the hood of Lou’s car), “One day when I was four years old, I saw that all of these birds had pooped on my daddy’s car, so I went on pooped on it, too. And my daddy yanked the radio antenna off of the car and he beat the holy hell out of me.”

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