Friday, January 27, 2012

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Goin' to the WALGREEN

The Old Man took Davey out to the Walgreen. That was a big thing 'round here. They had a cafe and a department store and drogeria and a fooderia. It was the place to be. Cozy too. Not all under one big air craft hangar roof, but laid out like a itty-bitty, crossroads town. Davet 'specially liked the toy shop. That kid loved anything, just so long as it could fly. This time they were huntin' for a nice, little android sky-pony.  Now why the boy would want a toy one when he had the real thing at home, I cannot tell you. But Davey knew. You see, they don't let kids go  up on the real ones. And he wants to do that real bad. Little man-made ones is different. All he gotta do is clip that little plastic thing over his ear and let her fly. They got some kind a circuitry that keys into the human brain. It's all done by thought control. Military uses it too, but on a much bigger scale. Started 'bout twenty or thirty years ago when they first made contact with them goomers out yonder. In space, I mean. Sure they fifteen light years out, but who knows what they up to. And we don't wanna play no 'Monctezuma meets the Spaniards', if you know what I mean. What? You wanna know what them space goomers look like? I do not know. Nobody knows. Guy down in Brazil, on Earth, says they big, ugly lookin' things.  Claims he deciphered some a their squiggly-jigs. Says they tend to favor big Praying Mantises and wear velour jumpsuits and smoke cigarettes. But he also says they members of the Presbyterian Church. And how the hell could that happen?

Bart (the Old Man, Hobart) picked up a nice, little pinto sky-pony. That was one sweet model. Had dusty, yellah wings, a mane to match. Davey liked it. Ran right over to it.........How 'bout this one? - said the pop-pop......... Davey said - What's its name?.........What difference does it make what its name is? You can call it whatever you want. It gonna be yours. - said the Old Man................ Lady behind the counter comes out. She don't like folks messin' with the merchandise. Maybe she knows they Texacos and maybe she don't........ But she says - Each one got a name. And it ain't no 'it'.......... Then she politely takes the toy from Bart, holds it up and says - Look here, right down on the underside. Can you see? This one a boy. See here on the tag? His name 'Chicito'..................... 'Chicito'? - say Bart. That ain't no name. It just mean 'little boy' or little 'cute' boy. I don't want my grandson playin' wit no horse like that. What else you got?........... So the woman took out a bigger one from the cabinet behind the counter. It favored a Clydesdale. You know, one a them beer totin' horses? 'Bout twice the size a the first one. All buff colored and strong...real strong, with big, ole light brown wings.  And you ain't gotta look on the underside to  know this one's a man.......... I want that one. - says Davey............. Wait a minute. What they call this one? - asks his pop-pop........... His name Geronimo. - say the lady. That tough enough for you?........... I want him! I want him! I want him! - piped the little boy. Give her the money! Give her the money! Come on. We gotta go get ice-cream............ So after a few more seconds, the deal was struck. Bart gave her eight hundred and ninety-nine dollars (ain't no sales tax on Mars) and she gave him  the android sky-pony, all wrapped up snug in his 'doubles as a stable' box. Even put it in a nice, heavy-weight, Walgreen shoppin' bag. Davey wanna carry it. He so excited.......... Quit swingin' it the way you do. Make it look like a God damned pocky-book - snarled the Old Man....... And Davey stopped.  Then they walked out onto the landscaped winding pathway and headed toward the Sassbarilla House. Some folks nodded to Bart. A few a them knew who he was. A few did not.  But he smiled back at all a them. Voters is voters you know, even if the game is fixed. And Zeb gonna be president. That boy better reconcile hisself to that fact. Senator just the first stop on that train.

So they sat there in the authentic recreation of an alpine ice-cream parlor (and who the hell know what an alpine ice-cream parlor look like anyway?). Some scrubbed up Tuva - Tuva fellah come over to take care a them. Davey had a Happy the Clown sundae. Bart had a Fu*k Face the Bastid mocha latte. They did not call it that. But that how he felt, 'cause this election' gonna cost him plenty.


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