Shitting is a great release of tension. Antonio at the Ebasco dining room and I share the same schedule.
“Every time I eat here, I gotta take a shit 30 minutes later.”
“Right before we serve lunch.”
“Like clockwork.”
“And then at 2.”
Tick-tock.”
I had only been constipated once in my life at 14. I didn’t shit for two days and the pain in my bowels was excruciating. No one was home at my parents’ house and I sat on the toilet for an hour, then I found an enema plunger and followed the directions. Warm water up my ass. Ten minutes later release and relief.
LATER
Today I have not one cent. I jumped the turnstile of the subway, both coming and going to Ebasco on Wall Street. My bag was stuffed with left-overs from the executive dining room. I was prepared for the worst, but arrived at the SRO hotel to find a letter from the IRS.
$308.90.
The last money I’ll received for teaching at South Boston High School.
They are still having riots over bussing.
I’m glad to be away from all that hate.
Now all I have to do is find a place to cash my check.