Cement is broken and crumbling under the strain of autos and coal trucks Handcuffed to the big oil

companies bosom, hungry and needy users flock to it's welcoming arms. Looming under an umbrella of neon and fiberglass it beckons. "Come to me and delight in my wares. The long black tube much like a giant black snake hanging from the side of a tree.Curled and misformed in painful disarray and contorted in a mass that is lifeless and dead.Chained to the box that is adorned with fragile paper notes that intend to shock and inform the user of it's mysterious purpose and the cost of indulging.Rising up in a mass of steel and metal the head of the asp is hanging ominiously awaiting it's next victim with its cold eyes darting in the direction of the tongue. Along the ground butts from discarded cigarettes and tobacco spit splatter adorn the lot.Miscellaneous candy wrapper and bottles tops pressed against the loose gravel and greasy surface of the stage. Center stage is a humble woodframe buliding adorned with plexy-glass windows and patio doors. Along the front a line of stone, sculpted purposely and permanent. Man made for the purpose of its owner. The plastic window convey messages to onlookers. New exciting things inside, ATM available, and WIC approved. Less conspicious and in handwritten permanent ink "Must wear shoes and shirts to enter.". Along one side of the stage is a sideshow. Monsterous boxes of freon and power tauting it's wares. A single white box filled with frozen pleasure and a cold padlock make up this purposed scene. Wet and sticky stone beset the locale. Buzzing and busy insects infest the location like moths to a flame. A single wasp buzzes near the doorway, out of place from it's nest above the rafters. Stage left is empty. Stone walkway stained with greasy spills and tobacco juice. Snuff cans stashed into the side of the brick. On the corner a lonely small box. Sun bleached and faded it's shell. Once royal blue and eye catching now a faded pale blue-white box. Inside is another offender. A trader in human misery and necessity at the same time. A square key pad of numbers and a single coil of metal to a black germ infested reciever. The reciever hangs from its cradle like a broken limb on a deer shot in the flanks. The main attraction is inside the disused patio doors. Doors in need of paint and cleaning adorned by a single general purpose door knob. "OPEN" the sign reads as I approach. "Use right door" the again handwritten message reads. Bells of metal clatter to inform the owner that he has a bite and to be ready to serve. In we go. Immediately the smell of chili and nachos overtake my senses. Such a contrast

is the floors, wooden and purposely oiled. The smells intermingle in a dance in my senses. By the door a huge imposing counter lined with various wares and exchange apparatuses. Again, handwritten notes in poorly placed locations. "No Checks" taped to it's stomach. Leaping out of the wooden surface to my eyes as a tattoo on a arm of a otherwise naked body. Above the bar of injustice is a cabinet of sorts. Long and imposing. Sheltering the face of the slave behind the counter. Rows of cigarettes and tobacco loom like the weight of the world over the counter. A lonely unused chair sits by the window. Aching to be occupied and is disappointed day after day. My attention is elsewhere as I hear the voice of a child. "Look Dan Dan! I'm going to need some quarters!". Eyes directed into the face of an eager child I see in my purpose has taken a detour. Strapped to the floor with bolts and greeting every small person is a peculiar little offender. Precisely the size of a small child and at eye level this contraption is wiley placed to entice it's victims early on. Unlike the blatant offender on the lot outside, this thief is appealing. Round clear bowl with various appealing and mysterious trinkets. Below the bowl is a tiny crank. Only twenty five cents and anyone can feel the rush of excitement and anticipation. Only a single coin to manipulate that metal lock! Feel the gray metal handle, feel it turn, and hear the mechanism activate in a happy tune sure to produce a treasure. He is mesmerized. I see his little mind saying "Must have quarters.". I oblige. I am rewarded with a token of affection in a plastic bubble that is both worthless and priceless. Everything else on my agenda melts into the smile on his face and the bravado of his victory. My purpose forgotten and left for another time.