by Donald Jett
I came to on the floor of the parking booth, a bloated beer can sweating in front of my face like a one-night stand. Not my type. I sat up and pressed at the knot on my temple until the pain became familiar. Then I grabbed the beer, held it to my head between drinks. When I was done, I tossed the can back into the night... bang bang. The owner of this lot is not liable for any damages.
Donald Jett is looking for a new job.