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Money is Not Important

Money is Not Important

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Published by wordweaver
The second chapter of A MEAL WITHOUT POTATOES IS JUST A SNACK.
The second chapter of A MEAL WITHOUT POTATOES IS JUST A SNACK.

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Published by: wordweaver on Aug 05, 2009
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02/07/2013

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 A MEAL WITHOUT POTATOES IS JUST A SNACK by Gerald BosackerChapter Two: Money is not important.
>
One-eye
=
waved an almost fresh french-fry at Curly, whowanted to ignore Century Street
=
s resident philosopher andblabbermouth, but habit persisted, and he stopped his cart.dumpster.
A
Hey, there
=
s an early bird, what
=
s cooking,
@
he said,knowing that breakfast discards at their McDonalds would be atleast two hours away.The one time Social Worker, had both eyes, but earned thesobriquet, 'One eye' because he always squinted, eliminating thestruggle to focus divergent eyes whenever he made an importantpronouncement. He closed one eye and spoke,
A
Where in the City ofAngels is there a function important enough to draw Curly outbefore breakfast? Whoa, and what social arbiter decreed that youtrim your beard, and wash away the urban camouflage of grit andgrime. Who ever told you monocles are in fashion again, lied.Don
=
t put on airs; you are still on list of the 4oo leastdesirable social butterflies. Are you in love, Curly or have youbecome a social climber, struggling to rise from the quagmire oflost...
@
Can it, One-eye. I haven
=
t time for your dissertation. I
=
mon an important mission and you could blow my cover with yourpithy, over-long observations and nosy questions.
Curly knew histidied appearance would soon be reported and embellished to theirmutual peers. One-eye must, have read his mind.
I broke my
 
glasses and I am now blind as a bat. One-eye, You have got tohelp me get glasses!
@A
I
=
m without evil influences, like money, Curly. We live inan ugly world. Are you sure you want to improve your vision?
A
I said,
>
Blind as a bat,
and I
=
m as broke as you, if poverty canever be relative. History is filled with gratuitous poverty butit is the fertilizer for invention and discovery. It could makeyou a genius, Curly.
Well, my stroke of genius requires your help, One-eye. Ineed to know the closest Lion
=
s Club, eyeglass depository, andhow to get there.
Well, then, step into my Century Avenue office, almost nextdoor to McDonalds.and he led Curly into the Ace Car Cleaners.The frightened clerk retreated toward the not yet functional carwash conveyer area for help and One-eye reached over the chesthigh counter and expertly found and removed the regional phonebook. A sleeping watch dog, aroused and bristled and Curly andOne-eye quickly exited, and One-eye dumped the book in Curly
=
scart.
You can return the directory on your way back,
@
They proceeded to the parking area of an adjoining donutshop where One-eye judiciously studied the yellow pages, and thenproclaimed,
Less than a mile, Curly. A fifteen minute walk, anda few minutes more, pushing your cart. Want me to keep it?
Just read me the God Damned address, and point, One eye.
@
 
A
I love you like a brother, Curly but I don
=
t fancy walkingbefore breakfast and I left my cart, back of Mac
=
s, so I willwrite the address down real big, so even with monocle, you willmanage without me.
@
Of all of his current friends, One-eye alonealways carried a stub of pencil with useable scraps of paper, torecord his pithy observations for posterity. Curly had longed toread One-eye’s journal, but it was never shared.Curly covered the eight blocks briskly, pushing his constantcompanion grocery cart, which always accorded him status as astreet person, leaving him in peaceful solitude, even through acrowd. Curly found the Lions Clubroom easily. The depository slotwas easily discernible right next to the front door, and theoffice seemed unoccupied.“They should not have a watchman or guard dog to protectthrown out glasses,thought Curly, and bravely stuck his handand forearm into the slot. Curly had lost weight since heabandoned his personal physical trainer, one of his perks when hereigned at the agency. How much, he did not know but his armslipped easily through the slot. His hand found the heap ofdiscarded glasses overfilling what seemed to be a common fivegallon plastic container, which probably had contained food forLions. His fingers felt a masculine and heavy frame, and just ashe began folding to extract them, something locked on his wrist,like a snapping trap. The trap did not have teeth and seemedwarmly human.

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