in rhythmn with a stick of beef jerky

today the sun was gobbled up by high altitude cummulus clouds, and i, all but shivering in my bright orange hoodie at the hess mart, managed to lock my keys in the car.
what good is triple A when your membership card is locked in said vehicle, and you've lost your cell?
nada.
you become, como se dice? a plebe.
walking around with humanity, waitin on a friend in the jam-packed service station so damn hungry you could eat that 50 cent bag of pork rinds.
well, unless you are me, but i digress.the station's only phone book had been saturated with fire extinguisher fluid, so i had to dial information for my dad's number.
and apparently, there's a stephen m-a-z-e in town now.that is not how you spell it.
i waited, for a small span of eternity, with a dwarf hispanic gentleman who was keeping in rhythmn with a stick of beef jerky.
it could have been any song, perhaps something from his native whatever.
the last time i had an enounter with a hispanic dwarf, i got a promotion.
who knows what this week holds?