The warlord came by this morning. Said his right side was his best side, be tight with the video. Being a mere gonzo scriber, I nodded knowingly, knowing the wrath of left side warlord video was not among my concerns. Press credentials are not easy to come by, the less said the better, like a mute almost. He was covered in spray paint.
Guess the police can work from home too, just leave when an urgent call comes in, take care of business, the dirty business, the tragic business, the dangerous business, the business no one else will do. Let the drones do the boring patrols, let others mess with the traffic. The station, the headquarters, the precinct, a future relic really, like stores, moviehouses, restaurants, corporate buildings. It's all art now and the warlord showed me his graffiti work-- it was a bit pretentious, and vulgar, and lacked the needed layered quality and shadowing evident in the best work. "Cool," I told him as he beamed with pride.
At lunch, got into it with a food truck scammer. Intrigued by the 3 for 2 taco special, was surprised when he handed me one taco after good cash money was paid for three. Assuming some unintentional oversight, politely, and with good nature, I pointed out his mistake. He just stared at me blankly, without expression or indication of understanding, like he was hypnotized and sad. Furious, but held back by my personal pacifism, I called him 'buster', insulted his taco, and assured him the warlord would hear of his shameful business practices.