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Thursday, June 7, 2007

WHEN CRIME PAYS

This morning I called the County prison and asked if they were overcrowded. The nice woman on the other line asked if I was with the press. I told her no, that I was just a concerned citizen. She hesitated at first, but then told me they were running at 85% capacity. I thanked her and hung up.


Damn.


I brushed my teeth and ran a comb through what’s left of my hair. I was going to shave, but I didn’t feel like looking at my mug in the mirror, so I doused it with cold water and left it at that. Blood-shot eyes, errant ear and nose hairs, and creased, leathery flesh are best looked at later in the day.



I checked my emails, but it was just another redneck vacation. Nothing but spam and phishing. I googled myself. No surprises there either. I was a ghost thumbing a ride on the information highway. Nothing solid. No bios. No links. No info.


I logged onto my bank account. If I can put together another ten bucks I can cover bank fees for the month.


No money.

No looks.

No celebrity.


I decided to call off the heist. Crime doesn’t pay for guys like me.

2 comments:

Capricorn Cringe said...

"I was just a ghost thumbing a ride on the information highway." HA I love it!

Jim said...

Thanks, capricorncringe. I'm still waiting on a ride.