Baked Scribe Flashback : Slotted For Disappointment

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This is bullshit.

I’ve been a part of your life for longer than I even remember. I’ve been there through the worst of it with you and I’ve stayed right here the whole time.

Examples? Fine. I was there with you when that crazy lady you met at the special dancing bar dumped you in the parking lot at Fun World. Not so much fun that night, was there? Especially after you discovered the rash. I didn’t bail on you then, did I?

How about the time when you were on your bike and nearly got run over by that redneck asshole in the pickup truck? I stuck right there with you at your side all the way through all of the treatment and the doubts and the rehab. I was loyal. LOYAL.

Remember the time you got so drunk that the police found you curled up in the middle of the street trying to talk a squirrel into lending you twenty dollars so you could play poker with Jesus Christ? Who stuck right with you and didn’t judge? If you guessed me, you’d be right again.

I’m not just any quarter. I’ve been living in the back pocket of your jeans for over a year now, sometimes sharing space with your wallet or occasionally your keys, eating my fair share of lint and dirt and grit. You probably could have given these pants a few more trips through the washing machine but again, I’m not judging.

So now that you’ve discovered me sitting here in your pocket, your special surprise for the morning, what are you going to do with me? After sticking it out with you, how do you reward me for my loyalty? A god dammed vending machine. I guess all I’m good for is the cure for when you’re feeling a little peckish. And what is it that you buy? What is the amazing product that you can’t live without that you’re trading away my loyalty and my love and shoving me through a slot into a deep dark abyss of nowhere for God knows how long? What are you trading me for?

Corn nuts.

You really are an asshole, you know?

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