Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Stealing Jimmy Dean

Bonnie Parker, 1934

The woman in front of me in the check-out line had at least thirty cans of dog food on the conveyor belt. She was dressed in tiny shorts and a tee-shirt, her hair too blonde for her age, her voice brassy and loud, too loud for the grocery store line at 10:00 pm. I felt judgmental. I had promised The Brothers that I would buy some of those frozen biscuits with sausage and cheese for this morning's breakfast. The Brothers have to take onerous state standardized tests this week, so a hearty breakfast is in order, and the crap will ease their hearts if not sharpen their brains. The cashier was a buoyant young man, trim and neat, and he kept up a constant stream of chatter as he scanned each can of dog food. What kind of dog do you have? he asked the lady. Oh, he's a mix, she replied. What's his name, the cashier asked. It's Salad, the lady said, and then quickly added that her dog had seizures and that's why they called him Salad. The cashier looked blank but laughed quickly and loudly when she clarified. His name was Caesar, but he started having seizures so we call him Salad, now. As the cashier put the last can of dog food into the woman's bag, I pulled out my pistol and shot straight through the can with such force that dog food splattered both cashier and customer who were both struck dumb as I picked my way through the mess and walked out of the store with the Jimmy Dean sausage biscuits stuffed into my bag. I nodded at the thin sliver of moon that shone down on the parking lot, stepped into my car and peeled off, toward home.


  1. 1. Whoa! I was not expecting that ending. At all.
    2. Another incredibly beautiful and powerful prose-poem piece.
    3. I love that picture of Bonnie Parker and have never realized until this moment how much my dear friend Lisa-Lisa looks like her. It's a little disconcerting. Not as disconcerting as exploded dog food but still.

  2. I hear you sister. Probably an excellent example of why folks shouldn't be carrying weapons around. The temptation...

  3. I think you would have stepped into your car, turned the radio to the classical station and quietly drove home. You would be that kind of gun slinger.

    Loved this.

  4. Oh. My. God. This is fucking brilliant!

  5. I can smell the wet skunky smell of the dog food now.

    You are a wonder.

  6. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

  7. Better than Ms. Parker though, by far...You rock!

  8. I'm so happy when I read your posts like this. Because honestly, my imagination takes me on rides like this all the time, and I think, if only people knew the adventures I have in my head!


  9. Oh god! I love you and this piece. I want to run away with one or the other of you, or both. It's like a short film. Let's find a film student.

    1. You know what? I was thinking of it as a short film, actually. I've been messing around with this idea of great violence that isn't really violence but justice in your mind. I don't have it, yet, but film might be the medium --

  10. Salad? is that for real? oh now i get it ... seizure salad .... where's my gun?

  11. You f*cking rule, Elizabeth. Love this.



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