My Bad, I Thought Tomorrow Was July 23

He said, “I work with the caterer tomorrow.”

I said, “I thought tomorrow was your big day.”

“You mean July 14?”

“Yeah. What happens tomorrow?”

“That’s when probation is terminated and the gold mask is removed.”

“Is there a ceremony?”

“Nah, from Friday the 13th, last week, I can’t make any money till the mask is removed. I’m working tomorrow but I won’t get paid till next week so I’m good.”

“And the Golden Mask will be removed?”

“Tomorrow night and my soul shall be returned unto me.”

“Cool. See you tonight.”

“Later.”

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About joefingas

I am a songwriter, poet, blues singer, and a boogie woogie piano player. I have a grandson but I have no children of my own. All my women have wised up and left me. I was a bum, a wino, a drug/alcohol counselor, a prevention/intervention specialist and a pretender. I have no more time to pretend.
This entry was posted in 12 Step Meetings, Blues, Co-Dependency, Denial, Love, Memoir, Poetry, Relationships. Bookmark the permalink.

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