Saturday Money

After another night that bled into the tomorrows, the sun came up (a bit too eagerly for my taste) and forced me out of a friendly stranger’s bed and into the streets of Micro Centro. Along the way home, I noticed an overwhelming amount of cards that featured huge asses and a tiny number to get to those asses glued everywhere.  On every wall, every light post and every dumpster for at least 9 blocks. I stopped to observe two working men who had the task of updating these sex cards plastered on everything. I watched as they scraped off the old cards and tossed them to the heavens, leaving them flying in the grimy city air as they glued on new ones.

Here is their story.

Well he ain’t no Jack, but some radicals call him a lustful sinner. Making an honest living, unlike those boys next door who’ve never even shaken a man’s hand nor looked a mighty woman straight in the eye. He spends his Saturday afternoons scraping the blue hooker cards off every inch of this barrio, has his buddy lather on a fresh layer of virgin glue, and talks about inflation – how the bread costs three times as much as it did last week. They effortlessly paste newer, better, yellow call-girl cards in every nook and cranny of Micro Centro.

For something like 22 pesos an hour, he makes an honest living on these Saturdays. What’s it to us what he involves himself in on Sunday? Or Monday to Friday for that matter.

A darker complexion reveals his humble upbringing in a Latin town full of the paler variety. Fate set his Saturday’s up this way, or maybe it was his father and his numbing 24 hour drinking habits.


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