September 28, 2003
A SAD TALE
In 1981 The Bride and I were in the Zesto's in Little Five Points in Atlanta getting lunch on a Saturday, as my crack house of a first home was about a mile from the Point (in the wrong direction). I believe Jack Straw and Rankin' Rob were with us. We were Seriously Hung Over, having been clubbing the night before. I think it was the Drastics and the Suburban Longs at 688, but I may be mistaken.
At any rate, as our order came up I noticed a man in the line behind us. He was wearing the Midas Muffler uniform of the franchise across the street, and he had no ears. Nada. Zilch. He had two small holes in his head, one of which was oozing some kind of treacle. I have no idea if he could even hear.
Am I having gratuitous sport with this man's affliction? Nope. But whenever I start feeling sorry for myself I think about that poor bastard in Zesto's, and what he had to endure for the previous 40 or 50 years, and I'm ashamed of myself.
An entire life without being able to wear sunglasses. What a pity, especially on the bright days.
Posted by: Ed at September 29, 2003 6:22 PMI never saw that guy.
I did sleep with his sister, however. Her deformity was rather more exotic, and exciting.