On the corner of the bars is a war going on between the green and the yellow Cabbies. They're all parked in a pile, yelling at each other and talking shit cab driver, Which Involves mostly the bashing of each others driving skills and car models.
As I am walking past the chaos it all feels like a strange lucid dream, where every situation springs into existence out of nowhere, rages on in my mind for a minute or so, only to completely disappear and make room for the next one.
Jeff Jones is standing at the corner of the coffee shop, stirring in a cup of tea and relentlessly fiddling with the little string that is attached to the teabag.
"Jeff Jones, what's happening?"
"I'm gonna drink my fucking coffee now, that's what's happening." He dunks the teabag in and out. "It's not fucking steaming right."
"That's because it's tea, Jeff Jones."
Across the street the cabs have finally calmed down, slowly mingling in with the late night traffic and all acting as if absolutely nothing had happened, blaring their radios and bouncing their good luck charms, they all load up on passengers tumbling out of the bars and take off.
"Jeff Jones takes shit from nobody." He dunks the teabag. "That's what I told my mom. Hihihihihi." He breaks out into raspy laughter that subsides just as soon as its begun. "Fuck rehab man, I'm gonna drink and smoke and snort till the day I die."
A man in a nice suit exits the coffee shop.
"Spare some change for a social outcast?" Jeff Jones positions himself right in front of the door and yells: "You feed parking meters with it, might as well feed me!!"
The man in the nice suit just walks around Jeff Jones and ignores him, breathing through his mouth.
"That's right, people!" Jeff Jones announces to all the bar hoppers and coffee shoppers and cab drivers and street performers. "Jeff Jones is not going down without a bar of Xanax and a bottle of gin!"
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