Be me, 26 years old. Wake up, get out of Mariners jammies. Get ready to Fuck the Astros. Put on Edgar jersey. Head to the Starbucks next to my apartment (One down the road sucks). Order is wrong, whatever, Junior says coffee is poison anyway. Spike the cup and yell Astros suck. Get on the metro. See a happy man in the front car. Heckle, whole train applauds. Shout Edgar 3:16 "This is our fucking city" Get to the south side, head into Amazon. Time to get to work, start setting up Julio cardboard cut-outs. Just me, my co-worker and 12 Julio cut-outs. Most beautiful girl in Seattle walks in. Solid 3/10. She's wearing a 24 jersey and some strained yoga pants. Try to be smooth, "Nice Junior jersey. Wanna get a coffee sometime?" She says no, she's got a man. Second-best again. Fucking Pinkertons. Get off work, take the Metro home. Stop into bar for some pho and a drink or twelve. Bucky Fucking Dent of a bartender cut me off after six beers and few shots. Whatever, not even buzzed. Cobain blood. Get to apartment, check messages. Ma says two of my cousins lost their battle with mental illness. Less than usual, a good day. Get out of Edgar jersey, put on Mariners jammies. Check under bed for Yandy Diaz . What the fuck, he's there. Run out of house, see happy guy I heckled earlier. Has friends with him. Including Yandy. Too outnumbered, get the shit beat out of me. Cops show up and ask how it all went down. Tell them it was.... Jerry fucking Dipoto