I Decked Some Fool at Taco Bell by Bates Masterson

A poem by Bates Masterson

I decked some fool at Taco Bell. The weather was miserable, overcast and grey. He was talking about the new iphone to a girl who wasn’t listening. She kept scrolling twitter on a shitty tablet. His rumpled khakis were too khaki and not enough rumpled. Or maybe it was the other way. Doesn’t matter. He looked like one of those guys who thinks It’s Always Sunny is boring and predictable, but watches it anyway and won’t explain why. I was trying to count the floor tiles while working my way through my beefy 5-layer burrito, but I kept losing track because this fool wouldn’t shut up about the iphone camera’s higher resolution. Higher than what? Higher than what, asshole?

His girl went to the bathroom, her bejewled flats echoing on the scratched tile. The pimply faced kid behind the counter turned around to ask the drive thru girl how to cancel a transaction and start over. That’s when I stood up and decked the fool without explanation. Higher than what, asshole?

Only I didn’t. I counted the scratched tile as the fool ordered. He and his girl left. I stayed at the sticky table, counting the tiles and eating my burrito, the echo of the girl’s bejewled flats on the tile floor blending into the patter of rain, just starting to fall.