Liquid Cocaine Theorem
I throw my Vacuum cleaner into my satchel because I’m done for the day. A profitable day in the life of a Vacuum salesman is to be celebrated! So I grab a glass of that sweet liquid cocaine courtesy of the Coca-Cola corporation and throw the store clerk a nickel, tipping my hat as I walk out the door. The mildly sweet soda pop is mixed beautifully with the patented coca leaf formula. Sipping on the coke I head down into the subway, I pass on by the Jazzman playing some sweet saxophone, and hop on the modern subway, on time as usual, a real pep in my step from the liquid cocaine.
In short order, I’m exiting the subway, practically in a dance. I buy a pre-rolled cigarette from a local street vendor for a penny and the good feelings are pouring over me as I puff on the all-natural tobacco cigarette. Heading to my affordable apartment on the Lower East Side I stop by the local butcher, smiling he wraps up some fresh pork chops for me and I ask him how his wife and kids are doing- he tells me they’re doing swell.
I open the door to my apartment and my devout protestant wife awaits me. She will bear three of my children one day and I will provide for all of them on a single income. She greets me eagerly and starts spicing up the pork chops. And we dance as the pork chops sizzle, no distractions. And we speak of the weekend and maybe we’ll go for a ride in one of those new automobiles, or enjoy some swing-dancing at one of the local clubs, our body’s naturally lean, fit, and fertile. Smiles abound as we laugh and share another bottle of liquid cocaine.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
I head to the subway after a long day of data entry at GreyCorp, my lower back feeling sore from all the sitting. I wait for the subway which is late as usual, a man not too far from me shitting in a mop bucket and threatening to beat the MTA worker who tries to stop him. The old tattered subway car pulls up into the station and I start my hour and a half commute back to my apartment on Staten Island since it’s way too expensive to live in Manhattan. The subway is packed and smelly, I stand tiredly staring at an ad for state-subsidized HIV-Prep while a man in a dress and lots of make-up is screaming vagaries about women’s rights.
After about a half-hour I arrive at the ferry. Thankfully I manage to get a seat this time after I buy a plastic bottle of Coca-Cola for five dollars from the ferry store. I sit there staring out the window sipping the overly sweet BPA-contaminated liquid, knowing I’ll feel sick by the end of it. My empty eyes gaze out at the ocean in exhaustion as a group of Korean tourists repeatedly take selfies next to me.
After the thirty-minute ferry ride, I get on the Staten Island Railroad train for another thirty-minute ride, head down as I take stealth tokes from my nicotine vape. I get off the train and stop by the 7-Eleven to buy a twenty-dollar pack of cigarettes. The local deli across the street from the 7-Eleven now closed down after they were caught selling cigarette packs for under the twenty-dollar state minimum, a man once choked to death by police for illegally selling individual cigarettes in front of that same deli.
I hop in my car that I left parked near the train and drive to Mega-Corp Grocery, a smiling man outside the grocery store tries to hand me a pamphlet for the Neo Protestant Church and I look at him in disgust. I head into the store and walk to the frozen food section and buy some No Evil Food’s frozen plant-based meat, “In Plants We Trust” the catchphrase on the box says. I wait in the long self-checkout line, then tell the pamphlet guy that religion is stupid as I pass him on the way to my car.
Two hours after I clocked out of work I finally arrive home to my basement apartment that I share with my girlfriend, who’s an ex-Xnax addict turned nurse. She earns more than me now and I think she resents me for it. She tells me she has already eaten, so I just microwave the soy burger and eat it in the kitchen as she sits on the couch and stares at her phone. I have the strange feeling she’s sleeping with one of the doctors at the hospital but I guess we never declared that we were “exclusive” so I can’t really be mad if she is. I finish the burger feeling bloated and low energy, I’m about forty pounds overweight despite being in the prime of my life. I step outside and halfheartedly smoke a cigarette that has five hundred and ninety-nine unknown chemicals added to it. My girlfriend comes out, says she's leaving early for her night shift, and departs without kissing me. I head back inside and just scroll through social media on my phone, tired but wired, until I fall asleep two hours later.
