Nurse the Hate: Memorial Day 2021

 

A look of serious focus went across his face as he bit down on his Nacho Cheese Dorito Locos Taco Supreme.  A satisfying crunch yielded the gooey prize, the third of his “Crave Pack” that had been delivered via Uber Eats.  He normally didn’t allow himself the luxury of the delivery surcharge, but his $300 stimulus check had hit his bank account and allowed him to pay the minimum balance on his credit cards green lighting him once again the ability to buy on credit.  He was back in business.  He finished chewing and slurped down an aggressive gulp of his 20 oz Monster Hydro Super Sport Energy Drink.   “I’m not getting no vaccine.  Who knows what is in that?  I’m not putting that into my body!”  He crunched down on the fragile remnants of his Nacho Cheese Dorito Locos Taco Supreme and licked his fingers.

It was Memorial Day.  Two fighter jets streaked past, doing a fly by on a local parade.  “You hear that?  You know what that sound is?  Freedom.  That is freedom.”  He smiled and looked out at his Ford pickup truck with the American Flag sticker in the window.  He had his NRA sticker tastefully placed on the back right corner next to his “MIA/POW Never Forget” window decal.  “I wish I could have joined the service right out of school, but I’ve got that bad back.  They wouldn’t take me.  I would have gone to Ranger School.  Best of the best.”  He always sang the national anthem as loud as he could when he went to the high school football games giving disapproving looks to anyone not standing at strict enough attention.  They should have gone to State when he was on the team, but that Coach didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.  Coach should have started him.

His job at the window company wanted him to return, but he could probably squeeze out another month of unemployment.  “They laid me off because of covid.  China and the Democrats are the ones that caused that.  The Media won’t tell you that because they’re in bed with them.  They’re all making too much money.”  He shifted his weight in his plastic lawn chair.  “I’m not like those deadbeats you see in Lorain and downtown.  I work!  I’m just sick of my taxes going to pay for them to all freeload.”  He looked over at his new smoker, a luxury he afforded himself after the last stimulus check.  “We should do some ribs today.  It’s Memorial Day.  Gotta honor those patriots.”  The sound of the fighter jets faded.  The flag on his porch flapped lazily.  He crinkled up the Taco Bell wrappers and got up from his chair with an unconscious groan.