I’m going to El Paso

Early morning flight. Friday, now, Friday night, some poor, under paid, under appreciated, probably a volunteer, person made some sales call.

Poor guy, it went like this, “This is [I don’t recall poor guy’s name> with the Theater, and we’re just calling past patrons, to see if you’d be interested in seeing something else we’re offering, what sort of material do you like?”

“The absurdity of life. The cruel nature of human beings, man’s inhumanity to man. The farce of the Republican Party….”

“Uh, hmm, okay…”

“Oh, no,” I continued, “it gets more absurd.”

“Uh, okay….”

“We’re born naked, wet, screaming, covered in blood, then it only gets worse.”

Poor guy. Didn’t know what to think. Caught him a little unaware. Probably thought I was a raving lunatic. Which I might be. But that’s another story, for another day. I’m going to El Paso.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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