The Youth Have Gone Nuts
Last night as I sat sideways on transit facing backwards, rising up out of the underground – watching the black tunnel sink further away as lit windows rose and vehicles blurred around me – a male youth held out a Becel margarine tub and asked me if I wanted any. The two girls – both jazzed up to go out, one with a sparkly labret piercing – giggled. No really, I said. I have two tubs of Becel at home, thank you very much. So I’m pretty good that way.
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