Today makes two guys I've seen now on Sahara — one at Las Vegas Boulevard, one at Rancho — who were working their respective corners, all disheveled, carrying scrap-sized cardboard signs that simply said, "FOOD."
At first I was impressed with the declarative brevity of their pitches. But then I thought: What if it's not a request?
What if it's a ...... label?
As in: "Eat me"?
As in: "I'm tired, broke and homeless, and I'm tired of being tired, broke and homeless. But I'm free, and I'm a good source of protein!"
Maybe Sahara Avenue is some kind of weird cruising strip for cannibals! Just imagine — right there, on one of the most heavily traveled stretches of Vegas, a passage for millions of drivers and pedestrians and tourists every year — dark, unspeakable contracts are being signed in blood right out in the open!
Hello, Anthony Zuiker? Call me! I've got your next CSI episode all ready to go.
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1 comment:
You are too twisted for color tv.
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