So, i was, masked, in the big-box-grocery-store, pushing my clanky cart, looking for my corporate-food. Clanking along in the corporate-soup-aisle, searching for progresso-lentil-soup.
(I add corporate-black-bean-spicy-hummus, and corporate-hot-sauce to it)
Turning the corner, I see a Vision. Plain-as-day, in a blinding-bright, blue-and-yellow jersey. A tall young man, wearing a big jersey — no.99.
Astonishment. Breathtaking.
It was like….that moment in ‘The Natural’ when Robert Redford looks into the stands and sees the shining-light-woman. Except this was in the corporate-box-store, in the corporate-soup-aisle.
I mean, this never happens in Motown, WV. This…never….happens. A human in a fucking Rams Jersey.
So, i practically levitated. I cried out, “Aaron Donald! He’s my man! Yes!”
(I dont even know what that means. It just erupted out of me.)
And this ram-vision smiled at me (like Jesus) and said, “Yeah, man.”
So much more to say, of course — I closed this distance toward him — and then I saw. The mother-fucker had no mask. NO mask.
So, i turned and wheeled away.
A pandemic ram-vision. What to make of it all. I dont know.
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