The sun is warm on our backs, the coffee mugs hot in our hands. Ruby Ann the husky dog is curled up by our feet. My birthday morning and we've walked down the beach to the coffee shop, aptly named, ENNUI, and are sittingout on the sidewalk watching cars buzz up and down lake shore drive. The actual lake is just down the street, a shimmering deep blue sky reflector.
Then up comes the bum. He has the distended stomach on a skinny body that screams drunk. He is mumbling something, then takes it up a notch and starts screaming, "This place is bad!! This is a bad place!!"
I can only assume they throw him out a lot.
"OH, shut up and move on." I yell at him.
This stirs him up. M. is looking as mortified as the woman at the only other occupied table as the Bum goes ballistic and screams and rants and slobbers.
I get up, walk over to him, grab him by his flabby tits, swing him into a brick wall. A couple punches to that distended liver of his and he was puking blood all over the sidewalk. Passing dog walkers were kind enough to let their pooches lick up the blood -- because that is just the kind of neighborhood we have, we take care of our own. Unless they are annoying. Then, well, isn't it better that we send them to hell, where that bastard satan can be annoyed by them???? M. wouldn't buy this logic either.Steal from me and you will be cursed in such a way that your hands turn into worthless, jelly fish like appendages that sting your intimates.