j. l. navarro

Never Know What You're Gonna Get














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It's a job, that's all I gotta say.  Sure, I ain't gonna get rich.  But money ain't everything.  Besides, I like driving.  And I ain't got no one to tell me what to do while I'm working.  It's just me and my helper.  We don't do too bad, either, with some of the shit we pick up.  We got a few regular fences.  That's where we really make the duckets.  The hourly is just pocket change—beer money.  Yeah, beer and cigarette money.  Sam and I put away at least a six-pack a piece on a regular basis.  Like every fuckin' day!  And this is while we're on the job.  We put another sixer away after we clock out.  But it don't bother me none.  I can drive blindfold if I have to.  A little beer ain't gonna stop me.  No way. Just wrap that piece of white and red plastic that says Caco Cula around the can and I'm in business.  Cops don't know no difference.  I find myself toasting them sometimes when we're at opposite sides of the street at a redlight.  Fools don't know nothin'.  And then with this big bobtail painted white and blue with Good Deed Industries on it…well, we're just Carte Blanche, know what I mean? 

 

 

Continues…

 

This story is included in The Blood Cake Vendor and Other Stories.

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