So. I had a dream last night or this morning or for a five minute nap that Ruby was a horse. Really. Don’t ask – it was a dream, and she loved running behind me as I dangled my legs off of an old dump truck as anonymous driver drove (Sorry, Zac) on the way that you just simply know in dreams, to the beach. To the Sea. (Gods, her mane was a jet black *exquisite*!)
Anyway, I sold my tablet to John Paul, which will juuuust barely cover phone and interweb – As an amazing artist, it serves him better than I think me. Crazy low cost justified… but I still need a car, as it looks like the City has chosen to make their living off of taking my vehicles. Yeah, I have my faults, but I have been SO FUCKING GOOD at waking up at 5:30(ish) in the morn to move my car when necessary, and in over a year, have received only three valid parking tickets. The two that made it the final loops in the hangman’s knot were from when my cripple card was stolen out of my broken window (there was nothing else to steal) and I thought that they were my aces. I have my disabled placard, I don’ need your stinking meters! Read my writing – I have a heart crippled with life, you farging bastiches!
So, I need a horse. That is what my dream told me. Either that, or buy my “95 Nissan Maxima for $1000, sunroof, dog hair, stick shift, maybe a slight leak in the radiator or reservoir. Quick as hell. Standard shift. Good on fuel. Fell like you’re actually driving. No extra charge for the dog hair, but the City does not deserve this prize and you do.
You can look, test all the controls, but there is a big yellow thing on the wheel that prevents you from giving it a test drive, unless you like going forward and backwards about six inches and calling that a drive. I don’t.
I love this city, but they don’t need my car. You do. I loathe the parking. You won’t, because you’re smarter than me. Buy my car…
or give me a horse. the one that the parking bastitches rode in on. We will unsaddle these… these people who are just dong their job (I say through gritted teeth).
I am selling things that I love and constructing a new and better future through my talents but that takes time – and a car. My current ride goes away by Thursday, mid- morning… unless I bring $845 to the transit authority to snuffle their devious plans.
Honestly, I would rather have a horse. Who can ticket a horse? I’ll teach Ruby to ride, live in the country and hitch rides on the back of dump trucks. But for now…