I know I make jokes about Living in Eastgate from time to time, but ultimately, it is all with love. For good or ill, these are my people. Driving up to Kroger to get ingredients for S’mores, because it’s a relatively cool night, and good for a backyard fire, wearing a tank top and a Kangol hat, chain smoking menthol cigarettes with my windows down and Type O Negative’s cover of Summer Breeze blaring, I pull into a spot next to a guy who is probably my age and is aging just as badly, wearing a visor, full sleeve tattoos, loading his trunk with groceries while 3 to 5 different kids are yelling things at him. The guy hears my music and says, ‘Type O Negative? Hell yeah.’ And I say, ‘Hell yeah’, totally unironically, and go into the store to get stuff for my backyard fire. This is my place.
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