and what do you know!


There’s this place called Fred Shanty’s with the best french fries in town, and I was in the mood for a hotdog with just ketchup. He goes where I want because it’s easier when one of us can actually make a decision in the real world. The place is the size of a shack, but it’s right on the water so that makes up for it. Once, when I was younger, I had these mushy hotdogs and ever since I’ve stuck with all beef franks. While sitting there at the picnic tables across from each other, the waves were crashing but we were quiet. He was thinking about something because he was nodding to an internal conversation, and I was trying not to look at some girl’s ass across the way. We got two cokes, the ones that come in those old glass bottles. And while I was trying to…

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