Tex & I were gently drinking another
day away on Teri’s front lawn, when
the time came for him to walk the
block or so to work. But we yearned

for still more sodden camaraderie,
so it was decided that if I could throw
three plastic figures of small black
children — which happened to be

handy — into Tex’s shirt pocket, he
would quit his job, and we could
continue our revelry. One, two, three,

Tex was unemployed, and we lay
back joyously reveling in the magical
figurines and the thrill of ambivalence.

—Todd Young

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