The carports had these spaces in between them that were big enough to walk through and since they were behind the apartments nobody could see you. So there I am shaking the can and putting the finishing touches on a bomb aguila when along comes this long hair dude with a bottle of something. "Heey, man." "What's up holmes." "Doing some paintin?" I nodded and continued working. He weaved in place. "Heey, wanna drink?" "No thanks, I don't drink." "Good for you, man." He took a swig and stepped closer. Then he grabbed my wrist. "Motherfu... "I could get 600 hundred bucks for turning you in." "Shyeet. If you could find the phone I bet it would take you all night to dial the numbers." I easily shook loose and looked him over. "Sabes que, este, graffitti is something you can grow out of, but drunken losers... "

~~ Jose Ornelas

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