Horror of Horrors

I nearly had a "the dog ate my homework" moment this morning.

I always pay my rent with a money order because I don't buy much and feel no need to pay up the arse for blank checks from my bank, another of the myriad "services" the bank claims to be offering you while enhancing your rape.

Walking home from the store, I managed to unknowingly drop my rent money order on the trolley platform near my pad. Intuition or fate caused me to search my pockets again because as usual I wanted to make sure I hadn't--that is right--accidentally dropped my money.

Naturally a great panic seized me when I discovered it missing and I hastily retraced my steps.  The very nightmare scenario that I had imagined happening was playing out!

I noticed a couple of sketchy characters (they are in abundance in my neighborhood) walking behind me as I turned back. I checked them for any unnecessary exuberance in the moment (the kind you feel when you find a large amount of free money), didn't see any, and continued with my search.

There it was on the edge of the platform, enticingly dancing in the slight breeze.  On a windy day it might have taken flight, never to return.  A moment later, another sketchy humanoid might have snatched it up.

Today, I got lucky.  I'm in no position to pay double for rent, can't even really afford what I pay to begin with.

I was mere seconds from having to concoct a story.

Oh, the rent?  Funny you should ask, the dog ate it.

On the bright side--you might call it the "dead horse" or "tilted windmill" effect--CounterPunch published my most recent essay today, so I have that going for me.


TS