"Wow. That's fucked up." Quoth Fair Harrington.
They passed a road sign that said Nogales 178
Already tired of the confinement of the car and
the duration of the trip (they'd gone 14 miles) Fair began to brood
a bit inside of himself, then blurted, "So what are we going to do
until we get to Nogales? One hundred seventy-eight miles is a long
ways away man, and I'm feeling antsy. Like, really fucking antsy."
"Well, listen to this," said the elder and wiser
Schlitz, "I've got just the thing for a fellow like you who is tweaking
hard for the first time. It's a game, kind of like something you might
have played when you were a kid, only it's that you're playing it
now as an adult. On hard narcotics.
Just trust me, it'll make the time go by faster, or less
slow or something."
"So what is it, man? I'm about to jump out of my
skin here, man."
"You'll know it right away. It's that game
where you look at cars' license plate numbers."
"Oh fuck you, man. Fuck you that sucks."
"Yeah. I'll tell you when I see a state, and you
write it down. And also write it down when you've seen a state."
"What the fuck ever."
"But you can't duplicate states. You can only write
down each state once. I've already seen --"
Thurgood stopped mid-sentence. A garbage truck
had just passed them at top speed. Hanging out of the ass end of it,
for Christ's sake -- it was a human leg! It appeared to be lifeless