On the Homeless... and American in General

You know, I think I really need to start second guessing myself more. Today there was this homeless lady out in front of seven-eleven and she was asking for food. I though about just brushing past her, maybe mumbling “fuck off, hippie,” but just then I suddenly remembered the pizza box I’d seen in a trash can earlier that day, imploring me to remember 9-11. I have more and more trouble remembering 9-11 these days, but I recalled something vague about fire-fighters and how people who bought drugs were somehow responsible. Though the specifics didn’t come back to me until I re-watched that Oliver Stone movie later in the evening, at that moment in front of the store I was overcome with a profound sense of patriotism. I reached into my back pocket and handed her the American flag I carry there for that express purpose, saluted her and went swiftly inside, purchasing myself a taquito. When I came back out, she was dead, perhaps overcome with pride was well at my overwhelming gesture…