February 2 blues

I was in clover on Jan 1 and shacked up with a million heiress out in Hill Country. But she ran down some bad voodoo on me.  Black Magick. Jan 2 I walked into a cold warehouse in the barrio. You might think I was nuts to leave her. Why would I leave her smooth, shaved legs, her oils and her sutras, sex at anytime and all my needs met and paid for? I don’t know. But leave I did and she put the black magick to me.

Everything started out ok. It was 77degrees. The car started. I reached into my shirtsleeve pocket and I had two cigarettes left. She was livid and flapping about the car, a real mess, but there was a Hank Snow song on the radio so I turned it up loud. I rolled up the windows and I locked the doors. Old Hank was drowning out her screams. I backed down the drive and rode out of Hill Country.
Its strange. I don’t remember much after that.
I remember someone asking me for my social security number and I remember putting on the coat and badge. I remember the man came down and I followed him in.
The next 30days are a mystery.

I came to at a sports bar in Austin Bergstrom International. I knew the girl’s name I was talking to was Julie.  I knew she worked in retail and that she was from Chicago. I looked down at the puddles of beer on the table and I saw the badge. A check was on the table, made out to me for $444 and 56cents and getting wet.  Julie crossed her stockinged legs high and fine, her top leg swinging a little.  I felt lucky. It was a long sleep and a deep spell but Julie was a real spitfire. I was thanking the gods of luck and raising my glass gladly despite the fact I couldn’t recount the last 30days of my life.