I went over to Newport Center to the doctor to get fluids removed for the scienticians. On the way there I saw a car pull on to Coast Highway in front of me. Beat-up old early 80s Buick or something, one of those huge two-door American mistakes. There were a couple of pieces of furniture haphazardly roped to the roof and a frazzled looking couple of people inside. Tramp Family. They radiated disorganization, poverty, and sadness.
I thought as they went by that they were unusual for the shininess of that part of town. Almost anywhere else in America you wouldn’t even notice them unless the furniture fell off, but they were in the heart of the Wealth Star.
Went in, got poked with a needle, peed in a cup. As I left I saw that two Newport cop cars had pulled them over and they were doing the shame squat on the curb while an officer talked to them. Police around here don’t miss much.
Seeing pharmaceutical reps always reminds me how fucked-up that part of medicine is. I put chemicals into my face every day that are aggressively marketed to physicians by stewardessy young women with too much makeup on.