Hot days and hard luck

The chips are down again and the rent is due. We stopped by the ATM, all we could get was forty dollars. There was no overdraft this time, and the balance is at zero. We tried the casino, tried making a little out of a little less. We split the forty dollars down the middle, then we ran through her twenty in thirty minutes, haha. I played an old five I had been holding onto for awhile, busted that also. I'm not a big gambler, at least not with money. So I pocketed my twenty and said I was ready to leave. We headed out to her beat up car. I laughed outloud to myself, mostly at the simple comedy at my plight in life. The idea that the cosmos, karma or even God seem to enjoy watching me squirm under the magnifier, right were we are! Niether of us catch a break, she tries I sit and think.

We drive down fourth avenue, eighties hits blaring, to the conveniance store. I snag a forty ounce of Bud Light and a powerball ticket. 118 million sounds pretty good about now. We cruise, she cries silenlty holding back the tears. I'm never the optimist until I'm this low down. My head is as clear as this early autumn night in this uninteresting, dead desert town. I even smile a little thinking about that cold forty sitting between my legs. Bud Light has never let me down. Maybe that little bit of luck will hold and we will be celebrating later with that champagne of beers in the fridge. At times like these I just know things will get better. If it werent for hard luck I'd have none at all. Back at the house I drink my beer and we take a gallon of wine from the fridge. We talk it flows easy and casually. We talk of a life with out struggles. As people drive through town living "our" life of conversations and dreams. I know they exist yet I know none of them. We wander down the long hallway to bed, I hold her together as she cries us to sleep.

The sun is high and it's to hot for september. I get up, trying not to wake her. I head to the bathroom. I shit, puke a little and brush my teeth in the shower. Steamy water painting me red. when I make it back in the room she is already dressed and holding a bag of jewelry to hock. As hard as it is with all the beer and worry, it's my life and I dont think I could handle another. This time this day it actually turned around, we made a little luck. She pawned her stuff and got exactly three hundred dollars the exact amount we needed for the rent. That afternoon, some pitiul guy I work with repaid me a hundred he owed me for the last month. Now we even have a little cash extra to stretch for two weeks till payday.

Like I said, my gut is rarely wrong. The downside is I only have these instincts when my back is to the wall and the water is over my head. Still I dont quit, I keep treading these waters. Drinking to forget and stretching every dollar. All the while "they" ,those privelaged few, keep living "our" lives.