.

"Hey, this looks like an ambulance!" I shouted.

"No, an ambulance would not have this," and the man pointed to the side window on his bumped up roof. (What is that called, by the way? An RV roof? We are surrounded by objects we don't know the names of. I painted houses for a decade, for example, without ever knowing those window strips were called muntins.)

"Hey, how long have you been doing this?"

"Forever."

"Ten years?"

"Three!"

"Three years are forever?!" I laughed, and he just smiled. I then bought something called a "Turtle Bar," and was on my way. That was my late lunch.

I was in a particularly good mood because I had drank two cans of Colt-45 with Clare, below, the one with the red and blue bandanas. I actually gulped 2 1/2 cans since she couldn't finish her. "I'll never walk again if I finish this," she said.

No chardonnay or chianti people, most of us. All we need is a tallboy and a pause to be more than happy.



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