Well, we had them dancing last
night. The kids were going ape, drunkards more than likely. Two different women
slapped me on the ass while I was playing. My posterior is exposed as the
ladies make their way to the restroom; it’s an odd stage configuration that
leaves me venerable to the abusers. At my age you take what you can get.
After
the gig on my way home I like to stop at a makeshift taco joint. It’s in the
parking lot of a local tire center and auto repair shop. It’s common in Los
Angeles to set up shop on a good corner, or in front of your house and sell
tacos. This place sells tacos al pastor in a manner I haven’t had since my days
traveling on bus through Mexico. They have an excellent choice of salsas and
the fellows manning the grill have an energy about them that reminds me of
Mexico. I think they’re from Mexico, it’s hard to tell.
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