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A brief fantasy of life in Mexico plays through your head. Following the fantasy immediately is the realization that you’re just some random guy walking usertalk:24.147.248.130 drunkenly through the night to the cop; he couldn’t possibly know who you are. What you’ve done. You stand and wait for the cop to pull up next to you and arrest you for public intoxication, but he doesn’t. The lights were never flashing for usertalk:24.147.248.130 you. He usertalk:24.147.248.130 drives right past. Figures. You’re not important enough for flashing lights. You useless sack of shit. After a moment of just standing, you put a foot forward, and then another, and soon enough you’re walking again. Through the night being dark. After approximately twenty minutes, you can see the gray silhouette of your little street neighborhood.
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