But I was not left desolate. They went the extra mile.
A small saucer of sliced Jalapeños.
Years ago, when I worked far down the peninsula, I would often pack half a dozen fresh Jalapeños in a pocket so that the roach-coach greaseburger (or mediocre suburban Anglo pasta chain restaurant fare) would go down better. A vegetable accompaniment, as it were. Fresh chilies are good for the digestion, as well as good for the soul.
Those are not necessarily always the same thing.
Red chili paste looks bright and festive!
Green seems somewhat sterile.
But it was very nice.
A FESTIVE BIRD
Fortunately the turkey vulture had been fed earlier, and was relaxing with his filled stomach and digestive borborygmi on a tub of chocolate chip cookies in the teevee room.
If I took him to restaurants, he'd peck at customers.
My, don't you look tasty!
A plain blend, Virginias and a smidgeon of Perique, in the pipe afterwards while observing street people sleeping in the park. Not close enough to note their intestinal rumblings.
Or any eructations resulting from cheese burgers, bland dips, and ranch dressing.
Because some of them are violent crazies one dare not get too close.
Many are from somewhere else. Probably tourists, originally.
Or cannibals from the vast hinterland.
The banjo states.
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