the grandkids are happy and the little one don’t cough as much

julie warshaw

pills are good

Our office has a view of the water on one side and a view of the parking lot on the other. From the eighth floor, you can see the entire parking lot and judge the parking-competency of the buildings’ many office employees. Today, the person who parked in spot number forty-three did so at such an obscene angle, their entire rear passenger-side tire was in spot forty-four. Parking is at a premium; resulting from the on-going drug whatever classes going on in the building with no parking next door (an occasion punctuated for me by a degenerate teen girl whom, as I got our of my car, I overheard exclaiming vehemently to a middle-aged guy in a wrinkled dress shirt “Like, I could pass a drug test right now. I totally could.” I’ll bet you could, sweetheart.) Regardless, there was a car parked in spot forty-four. And forty-three didn’t belong to a degenerate teen because it was there all day. Who parked like that? Since it wasn’t a Hummer, I’m guessing the perpetrator wasn’t trying to compensate for empty pants. It had to have been a chick. Chicks suck at driving. (It’s OK, I can say that. I used to deliver pizza…)

←100 words a day

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