Wednesday, August 27, 2003

Del Taco. Two o'clock, ante meridiem.

I order some fake Mexican food. I pull up to the window, please.

This Del Taco shares the corner with a gas station. A man is walking through the pumps, smoking. He is walking towards me. As he draws nearer, several characteristics are revealed that turn him from "a man" into "a bum." The bum walks up and stands unsteadily next to the drive-through window. I watch him.

I am wary, but not very because this bum is Caucasian, and since I'm Hispanic with a shaved head he's probably more frightened than I am. However, I'm not completely at ease because for all I know he could be nuts or at least not the kind of bum to stereotype people.

He steadies himself by leaning against the wall. He speaks: "Hey man, give me a ride to Scottsdale."

I respond: "No."

He appeals: "You want me to have to fuckin' walk, man?"

I respond: "I don't know you well enough to wish anything upon you."

He pauses for a moment. I don't think he understands what I just said. He counters my ploy: "It's a tight keep."

I don't understand what he means. I tell him so: "I don't understand what that means."

He speaks: "I'm trying to teach you something man."

I don't: ". . . . "

He changes the subject: "You think you can kill, man? Killin', you think it's easy!"

He's right, but I don't admit it: "You must know what I think better than I do."

He changes the subject...I think: "You're on a mission."

I don't, again: ". . . ."

His tone is that of someone who has just come to a conclusion: "Yeah, me and Jimi Hendrix."

I make my own conclusion: "I don't know Jimi either."

The drive-through window opens and a weary employee holds out my order. I take it and thank him, but most of my attention is still on the bum. The Del-Taco guy is asking me if I would like any hot sauce when he notices the bum right next to the window. He tells him that he can't be standing there and to go away. The bum mutters something at him and doesn't move. I shift into first gear and ease up on the clutch.

The bum yells as I pass him by: "Just keep driving!"

And I do.

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