Hit it

In a large green park, there are rows of cars parked on the grass of one field. One old blue car sits by itself in the middle of all the other cars. It is a classic although I can’t tell the make. It restored to perfect condition and the paint glistens. I open the door and slide onto the bench seat behind the wheel. I almost expect to find the key in the ignition. Instead I think of Langston’s 64 Chevy that ran if you pulled the key out and the time he claimed that you could start a bulldozer with your thumbnail. So I stick my thumbnail into the ignition and turn. The car starts and I drive off. As I am pulling away, a young Spanish boy runs up beside the car door. He doesn’t yell, just tries to bang on the window. As I drive off, he runs alongside until I pull onto the street. As I drive down the block, I realize that stealing the boy’s car is wrong. And I want to stop. But I fear being caught. I drive another block or two down a steep hill and pull off to the side of street. The side of the street is a ditch and I have pulled the car over too far so that it will be difficult to pull back onto the street. I don’t want to risk moving it. So I walk off, up the sidewalk back the way I came. A few houses down on the sidewalk begins a yard sale that looks to stretch up the block for several houses. I notice a criss-crossing mesh made of wood that covers the back of a piece of furniture. As I walk past, I hear two old ladies discussing the dresser. One points out to the other that the wooden latticework only runs down the back of the dresser.

I am talking to someone and say “Every pizza calling out for extra cheese.” I go on to list other examples of excess.