Real Chili

I'm in Austin. My dad is in the Heart Hospital. He's doing pretty good. May get a pacemaker & defribulator on Monday.

Went on a walk. Went through a gate with an old iron fence. Turned out it was the back entrance to the "State Hospital". I saw some twisted bare barked trees that reminded me of Van Gogh's. I sat by a fountain. It was cold and gray. A strange thought came over me. What if I were really an asylumed patient and had imagined everything and really hadn't just left the heart hospital for a walk?

Well, anyways. I left out of the front and nobody stopped me... so I suppose it is all okay.

Anyhow, I took a detour and went through a residential neighborhood. On 44th and Ave. B I stumbled on a tiny store with a big sign, "Homeade Sandwiches". I walked in. From the back, a clean-cut man, a few years older than me, said, "What can I do for you?" Then he said, "Chili's good." He had a big black pot in the back. I only had $5 in one dollar bills. I looked at the prices. It was $3.50 for a small. Since I wanted a Coke, I ordered the small.

He stirred the pot and ladled me a cup. He put the chili in a cup like you'd get for bait. He rang me up and told me I could sit down. I looked and there wasn't a chair. I looked at the empty spot, and looked around a bit wondering what he meant. I looked back at him and he said, "I can get you a stool to sit on." I said, "No thanks. I'll just sit outside." He said, "There is a dry place on the step."

When he gave me the change, he looked at me intently and said, "Nice day." It was rainy, gray and cold. I said, "Yeah. I'm up here visiting my dad. He's in the heart hospital." He said he was sorry to hear that. I told him that it was going to be alright.

I went outside on the step and ate that little cup of chili. I don't know if it was really good chili. I think it was. All I know is that I was going to like that cup of chili. It was real chili.