“Sorry to be impolite, but I need a job.” I shake his hand. “I don’t have time for horseshit.”

              He won’t let go of my hand. “Yes, go. But? I tell you go, you stay. Now I know you are a scammer. Kind two American! Very fat. Also eats nothing with eyes. Only food made things. Chicken made nuggets. Fish made sticks. Cows made burgers. Potatoes made slivers to fill salty bags of plastic. All salt, all fat, all cholesterol! Children the fattest! Breasts of American ten year olds – like melons of Africa! They can not walk! They swim, no, wade like up to the chins in water, waving hands like to push air out of their ways. You are fired. No, first you are hired. Now you are fired. But I don’t fire you. You fire yourself. Because? You don’t fire yourself – UP!”

              He smiles in triumph. He’s discovered an idea in English, the language itself. His delight is as contagious as his greed. He hitches his pants higher under his long shirt. He dusts with his shirt tail the shining Corvette, sliding his shirttail over its curves. “Oh baby, I love you, you car! A car is like American football. American football is nothing. I like that. Beat. Beat-ba, beat-ba-ba. A man throws himself on a football. He breaks his collar from his bone. He tears the strings off his ham. He will never walk again. But he walks again on TV a hero! Sticks stick in his shoulders to stop anybody touching his head. His head is so dangerous, so American, so empty of everything except nothing. He is like a car, football makes his body to a beautiful shape for football to break it and make new bodies. All killer stink. And you? None? No wonder you let Asia bugs beat you in Viet Nam.”

8

  

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