Saturday, December 18, 2004
Volume 6: 3am Burrito
Something a little different from the Prairie Dog this time. It’s the kinder, gentler Prairie Dog. The softer side. Don’t worry; I will get back to tales of necro-bestiality right away. But for now, I present to you…
3 A.M Burrito
Thinking back to a night long ago. Basement, friends house. Parents away. Fridge full of beer. The boys are getting hungry. 3 A.M. Burrito.
Punched my buddy. Blurry misunderstanding. I say sorry. We’re cool now.
Fuck I love that song! Turn it up! Skid Row kicks ass! Air guitar; flash the metal sign. Flick my mullet. All is well.
There’s Scott. He’s funny. Not looking so good. Think he’s going to yak. Dude, what a mess. High five. He’s cool now.
Boys are getting hungry, lets go for a walk. Hit the 7-11 for a 3 A.M Burrito.
It’s late, we’re shirtless, and the stars are shining bright. We’re too loud. We’re singing.
We are going to live forever. Bulletproof buddies, a gang without colors. No worries about tomorrow.
Take tomorrow, bend it over and fuck it in the ass. Living for tonight. Living for rock, laughter, and 3 A.M burritos.
Matt fell down. I think he hurt his leg. Even worse, he dropped his beer. He needs a smoke, he’ll be O.k. Lit the wrong end, too funny.
Where’s Benny? Back on the couch passed out. Fucker can’t keep up.
Mike says he loves us. We call him a fag. But we know we feel the same. To ‘cool’ to admit it. Instead we talk like guys. “Oilers rule!” “Tammy has big tits!” and “The math teacher is a dink.” Drunken laughter.
We made it. We’re in the store. Were still too loud. We’re funny. Cashier thinks we are stealing.
Hit the buttons. 30 seconds. Beep. Done. And an extra burrito for Benny. Head outside in the early morning air.
Good times…3 A.M Burrito.
Matt falls again, drops his burrito. He’s okay. Still eats it.
Scott pees on the road.
“Lets wake up Benny, that fucker!” We call him shit but he’s our brother. I eat his burrito.
We’re laughing. We’re singing again, waking up everyone on the street. Fuck it. We’re invincible, after all its Friday night.
Pals, buddies. Friends forever.
Tonight its 10:30. The mullet is gone. My son’s asleep. I just checked on him. Make sure he’s covered up. Teddy bear clutched in his arms, so sweet. I love that boy.
Then I’m back downstairs. Alone. I feel old. Thinking about the past. It seems so long ago. I smile. God I miss those guys sometimes. I think tonight I’ll stay up late. I’ve got a hankering for a 3 A.M burrito.
Prairie Dog, December 2004.
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