Phil Fail

Today, I tried to act like my character Phil proving that it is a whole lot easier to write someone cool than BE someone cool.

I went to Taco Bell by my house. In it was a homeless Transexual with a beautiful pair of breasts and an inch long chin growth. Her hair went horizontally straight back because it hadn’t been washed in days.

I ordered a bean burrito with extra beans, tomatoes, jalepenos, no cheese and lettuce.

She would get up and run to the counter and place a bogus order. Then she sat down. Then she would literally run to the restroom. Then she sat down. She tried to catch imaginary flies frantically.

The cashier pointed out that she was not welcome.

“You have been here all day,” said the cashier.

“I have not!”

“You haven’t bought anything.”

I walked over to her.

“Here. If you will have this, it’s yours.”

“Thank you.”

I left knowing that tonight it was going to freeze and that she was severely mentally ill. I drove home as fast as I could, got a sleeping bag and returned. I walked into Taco Bell and there she was.

“May I sit here?”


“Do you have a place to sleep tonight? If you don’t, I have a sleeping bag you can have.”

“God is so good to me. I accept blessings. I’m a Christian. People try to give me hamburgers but I don’t eat meat. But if my plans for the evening don’t occur, then a sleeping bag would be nice.”

“The Burrito was vegan,” I said.

She didn’t get that. Obviously, she already threw it away thinking it had meat in it.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” I said.

I went to the car and got the black sleeping bag and went back inside the Taco Bell.

“Here you go.”

“Oh, my angels are telling me that I’m not supposed to accept this from … YOU …. and … it is BLACK.”

Her face showed fear at the black sleeping bag.

“I can’t sleep in something black.”


I walked away with the sleeping bag under my arm. Turned.

“Tell your angels I said hi.”

She looked at me in fierce deadpan.

“They hear you,” she said in a manner that indicated I insulted them.

Since I had nothing for dinner and my burrito was most likely trashed, I went through the drive through and fell for a steak melt, crashing my vegan commitment resoundingly on the rocks. I came out of the drive through, parked, and tried one more time. I knew what was coming with the night, and hopefully, she would listen before reality brought down its chill. We have three sleeping bags and maybe I could make a sale for a free green one. I went back inside.

“Would you take green?”

She smiled blissfully.

“No thank you,” she declared with the softest, angelic sincerity shining from the dirt on her face.

I left, ate the nasty Taco Bell Steak Stacker or whatever the hell it was called, and went home.

I went back. This time I would tell her that her angels were right. I was a sinner that needed Jesus. I was all prepped to say the sinner’s prayer and confess I needed Christ. Maybe then, she would see my sleeping bag as clean enough for her. Maybe by washing my sins away, the black would be made pure.

But she was gone.

And now the freeze begins.

Three strikes – I’m out.

FUCKING ANGELS. They’re murdering bastards.

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