brains of shit

I’m sitting at the Hurricane minding my own shit when I get the feeling that someone’s staring at me. I glace over to my left and there’s this cat sitting a few stools down sucking on his beer. “Dammit, not another one”. It was one of those lonely boys. You know the type, always from somewhere else and starved for someone to talk too. So even though I kept my attention focused elsewhere, I could still see him out of the corner of my eye staring my way. Suddenly there he is on the stool next to me offering to buy me a drink. I decline and put on my best “I don’t really want to be friendly face”, but lonely boys oblivious to my subtle hints. And of course he hit me with the standard wanting to get to know me question. “What do you do for a living”? After thinking it over I decided to give him the long version.

Me: “I work for the Federal Emergency Management Agency, Department Of Homeland Security”. “
Lonely boy: “You some kind of nark”?
Me: “Whatever”.
Lonely boy: “You’re into secret nark spy shit aren’t you”?
Me: “Whatever”.

And for the next few minutes I sat drinking my drink and watching as lonely boy tried to tell anyone that would listen that I worked for something called national security and was a nark. What a dumbass. Telling nosey talkie muthafuckers the long version of what I do always has the desired effect. Confuses em and sends em away.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"