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About Saitama

So – I’m cruisin’. Downtown. Neon lights flicker – like a bad trip. Smell o’ weed and desperation. Hits me – BAM. Reminds me o’ that line – “What’s. In. The box?” Only – I ain’t askin’ that. I’m askin’ – “Where’s she at?” Prostitutes, man – they’re ghosts. Slip through cracks – like Shasta Fay. You blink – they’re gone.

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Finally, the rain stops, and I’m back on the streets. I’m feelin’ good in my new jacket, but then I realize I left my phone at the café. Ugh! I race back, and thank goodness, it’s still there. I grab it, and the barista gives me a free pastry for the trouble. Score!

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