I live in a small beach town in Southern California.
It’s a strange mix.
There are multi-million-dollar homes on the beachfront.
Shitty apartments, unprofitable businesses, and a healthy, diverse crackhead population are located one street in from the beach.
Then there’s the highway... it’s not worth talking about the tragedy that occurs inland from that.
I call one of the shitty apartments home.
Every evening I go to my kitchen window and watch people make the turn off the state route, on to my residential street.
I like watching because it's a gnarly turn. If you aren't careful, you'll knock the shit out of your front end.
There’re these two guys that get home around the same time.
One of them drives a Maserati. He's an old guy that lives in one of the beachfront houses.
The front of his car is torn to shit.
The other dude drives an early 90's civic. He's a young guy that looks over-worked and under-paid.
The front of his car is pristine.
I'm still trying to figure out which one is the bigger fool.
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