Merry-go-round

I’m in line behind a lot of hungry people, waiting patiently to give their orders to the ‘roach coach’ cook. It’s one of the big, motor home sized coaches. Two order windows. It’s a hot day, but everyone is having a good time. I’m supposed to be working the zoo on phone repair, but, it was a slow day, so I was playing frisbee football with some Mexican guys. I can’t run, but WHAT AN ARM! Off to our left is the big Merry-go-round. Its music plays all the time. It just plays slower as kids get on and off. Coming down a footpath from an upper parking area is a bald headed black man. He’s blacker then Snipes. Blue black. He has just this weird thong, African deal around his loins. No shoes. Big sandals that wrapped his calves. He also had a big boom box on his shoulder. He looked to be about six five and three hundred pounds. Easy. He wasn’t the man he used to be, but still, he impressed me. That little gut isn’t what’s going to nail you…The big man also has a pleasant demeanor on his mug. His music is jazz. Not even blasting. He looks like a black Mr. Clean. He smiled at some kids then got into the line across from mine. Some gang guys of the Latino race quietly surround this guy and tell him to, “Turn that shit off bro!” My man doesn’t want trouble. There’s about fifty white people, seven blacks and six thousand Latino’s. Nope. He turns it down low. Nope. “OFF, M-FER!” My man now sets the big boom box on the ground and shakes his head in a slow no. Out of the crowd comes a champion. This guy is wider then he is tall. Has no shirt. Fifty years of tattoo’s all over his chest, arms and back. He has a red doo rag on his head and a wife beater shirt cut to show his abs. A Big Foot looking Man chu beard. He doesn’t waste any words. Twenty beers are doing his thinking any how. He comes right at My man with a flying left hook. Mean and vicious. It never lands. A big right hand comes in low and up, right into his chin. He never knew what hit him. He flew backwards like in a Popeye cartoon. He’s no Blutto though. This is the real world. His head hits the hard blacktop long before his ass did. A pool of blood starts forming around his head like a crimson halo. Everyone fades away. I see my man heading back up the dirt trail with his radio on his shoulder. I catch his eye. He looked really sad…

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