Ad on top of NYC Yellow Cab
8 min @ Fresco, 2nd Ave
Gianni was full of shit. Literally. His last regular movement was on Friday before he travelled to Genoa for his sister’s wedding. The wedding was Saturday and the party was still going strong four days later. The house was just too full for him to have his morning voidance in peace.
But he was getting worried, he knew people got sick from blockages. It was not unreasonable to fear death by constipation. Papi had died from complications created by a blockage.
His sister, Christianna thought New York had turned him into a hypochondriac, “like’a Wuuudi Hallen.” Gianni knew his fear was real. He had limited himself to liquids since yesterday, solid food would only add to the growing mass of waste he was so desperate to void. Mamma insisted on making him a ‘brodo’ today. She knew when she saw him, he was not well.
gratitude 10.vi
-cashmere lined gloves
-peppermint tea
-the willpower to disengage from bullying conversations
-being ambulatory
-popcorn
-dental floss
-patient sales rep at AT&T while i contemplate an iPhone upgrade, and then leave to think about it further
-my two pals with answers to all my questions about living on the LES
-black clothing because it makes me look presentable when i don’t have the energy
-not being too afraid to squash the shit out of a NYC water bug aka what most people call a monster roach
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