There’s a piece of shit Cadillac all dinged up in the driveway. “Whose car is that, anyway?” You may be inclined to ask. But that’s not the point. The point is the journey that car took to get there, in that long driveway, leading up to the rancher home that was typical of houses built in the 60s.

Michael Everett was a man who knew a lot of things about a lot of things, but he didn’t know much about bank robberies. He knew how to fix your computer, and he knew how to triple-tie his shoelaces, but bank robberies had escaped his capacity for reasoning. Why is that important? Because that is a part of the reason the car is in that driveway, it’s not the only part, but it’s definitely a part, and you cannot have a whole without all its parts.

Summers usually aren’t too hot in Pinole, but today it was bordering on too hot. It was 90 degrees, by Pinole standards, you may as well have been on fire.

Michael grew hungry and wanted a hamburger, or maybe a cheese burger, or maybe a “choose burger?” It’s a burger where you choose all the toppings, so now you know.

His friend Adrian is a good guy, but a complete fucking idiot.

“Dude, have you ever wanted a way to like, I don’t know, blow the fuck outta dodge?”

“You mean leave?”

“Yeah, like just say fuck it and go somewhere new. No more stuck up girls, no more lame ass guys. Just no more bullshit, ya know, Mike?”

“How do get to this bullshit-free destination? You got any big plans I don’t know about?”

“Not really. Like, I’ve thought about stuff, but nothing like, real.”

“What about unreal,” Asked Mike.

“Well, if we’re gonna break free, we need a lot of money, but I don’t gotta pussy so you gotta think on your feet.”

“Yeah, but you are a pussy, so it should all work out eventually.”

“Very funny, ‘Dike Ever Rot’”

“Bringing back middle school trash talk, are we, ‘GAYdrian?’”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“You called me a name first.”

“Yeah, but my uncle’s gay.”

“Then why would you call me Dike if you get offended by gay jokes.”

“Because it’s like the ‘N Word.’”

“What?”

“Okay, ‘Dike’ is a derogatory term for lesbians, but your family doesn’t have any lesbians, so it’s not cool and like, you know, I have gay family members, it’s like I’m a black guy, and you just were racist.”

“Shut up, Adrian.”

“Typical fascist.”

Bay Area native, Hip Hop nerd, literature and poetry enthusiast, freelance writer, gamer, caffeine addict. Follow me on Twitter.

Bay Area native, Hip Hop nerd, literature and poetry enthusiast, freelance writer, gamer, caffeine addict. Follow me on Twitter.