art by Stephen James Kiniry
by S. A. Rudek
***Editor's Note: There is language here that may not be appropriate for young, or PG, readers***
The first time I hear "California Gurls" by Katy Perry, we are heading south on Magnolia Drive toward Montauk Bluffs because we think there might be guns down there.
"Girls," you clarify, flashing a peace sign, posing behind your Ray Bans. "spelled, G-U-R-L-S."
"You know how I feel about this shit."
"Yeah well, navigator plays DJ. Them's the rules. Besides, if it were up to you, we'd be hearing some mopey folksinger bullcrap." Even at the end of the world, you refuse to swear.
"Shouldn't you be saving the battery, anyway?"
"What for?" You ask, with a burst of staccato laughter, "I guess we could call up Jamie and Steve, like old times. Listen to some music, smoke some weed, and finish it up with a hearty game of hemorrhaging to death on our kitchen floor?"
God, I wish we had some weed.
"Besides," you add brightly, "aren't we headed to a pawn shop? Maybe we can find another iPod there."