Sunday, September 25, 2005
funds for hurricane relief. The elementary school down the street is collecting. So I stop and step out of my red rock and roll blaring machine and opt for the kool-aid. I reach into my pocket and pull out all the coin and plop down about four fifty on the table.
I say, "girls, you know what you should be selling on a fine day like today? You should be selling a Bolivian delicacy of exquisite cuisinary delite."
"What mister?" they asked in perfect harmony.
I set the empty cup down on the table.
"Why fried breaded guinea pigs of course. You'ld have people lined up around the block!"
Last I looked out the balcony the look of terror was still on their little faces as they stood frozen. The stand has turned into a self serve operation as people continue to pour their own drinks, paint each other's faces and drop money into the coffee can.
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