He Motorized His Way

He motorized his way into line
behind me at Big Lots. He was
missing a leg, he was filthy,
disheveled and wore a sweat
laden red ball cap. You got it —
Make America Great Again.
I said hi. Nothing. As my wife
and I walked to the car, the
man in the motorized wheel-
chair emerged from the store.
He called me over. He told me
that he had just received an
all-expenses-paid vacation
at Mar-A-Lago as Donald
Trump’s guest of honor. No,
he didn’t. He just directed
his chair toward the busy
intersection of Bethany Home
Road and Black Canyon High-
way. Undoubtedly, he was on
his way to a flophouse or some
underpass for the evening
with friends and a round or
two of Thunderbird, not on
the rocks. I hoped his
chair wouldn’t die in the
middle of the street.

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