Readers Write: Overheard At Sugarmom’s
“Hey Mike … You know what the city gives you if you turn in a fucking gun?”
“No what?”
“A fifty dollar gift certificate to Cityblue.”
“What the fuck is that?”
“That stupid hiphop store on South St. … That’s what our city is reduced to.”
At which point, Mike hmphed, finished his Yuengling and put his Old City fatsuit back on. He walked out into the rainy evening. He looked up at the sky. The pleats in the clouds matched the pleats on his Dockers. He took a deep breath, and switched his phone to vibrate. It was going to be that kind of night.
