Sterling City. There’s no place quite like it. Sure, she's a bit emotional at times, but her sweet lovin' makes it all worth it. It’s not uncommon for someone, some tough motherfucker to stroll in and think he’s above the law. Shit. He’s not wrong. Only, the law is a merciless bitch. If you don’t pay her attention, if you don’t treat her right, she’ll leave, abandoning you for someone who will treat her the way she wants to be treated.
All these immature gangsters, the mere boys who think themselves men, don’t get it. They don’t understand Sterling the way I do. They take advantage of her and act surprised when she lashes back. There are few certainties in this miserable life, and one of ‘em has to do with a woman scorned.
There she dances on the stage. Friday night in this dump holds the shining jewel of the city. Red hair more precious than any ruby, her smile is innocent; it reminds me of when I was a boy in Ms. Charlotte’s class. Oh yes, there was no sweeter woman than my twenty-something year old 1st grade teacher. She was a woman, barely, and treated us like we had potential, like we weren’t meant to all be fuck-ups. Ms. Charlotte, she always wore the cutest sundresses. Ms. Charlotte, compassionate till the end. God knows she knew I struggled.
Academia was never my strong suit unless you count gym class. My report card was full of Ds, maybe the occasional C, but gym class? I was goddamn Einstein when it came to physical activity. Still am. You know what they say about knuckle draggers like myself. “Muscle for brains.” Shit. They’re not wrong.
