The Shattered Prayer

They also took all the lottery tickets.

At the Train station near my work, there are two little magazine shops. Up until about two week ago, these shops were run by a group of Indian men (one of whom was Oh My God! hot. The others of whom ran the full spectrum of attractiveness). You could go in the shops, get a magazine (including those of the pornographic variety), some soda, some delicious cakey treats, and a lottery ticket on your way out.

All of that changed two weeks ago.

Suddenly, without so much as a “Ta! Thanks for all your business!” all of the men disappeared. They were replaced by a full compliment of Indian women (none of whom, sadly is Oh My God! hot).

Then other things started to disappear. The first was the lottery booths. Thousands of irate customers came up demanding “What happened to the Lotto?” only to be met with “I don’t know. Maybe next week.” It is as if these women were just as surprised as we were to see the booths disappear from their stores.

Next to disappear were the porn magazines (no big loss, surely. Doesn’t everyone use the internet for their porn these days? But even so, it is the principle of the thing — train stations in depressed areas should have porn readily available! And liquor too).

But then, the worst of the disappearances occurred.

All of the cakey snacks vanished!

And they were replaced by Healthy Snacks! Nothing but twigs and berries, and yogurt covered raisins. Who the Hell wants to eat that at a train station in New Jersey? Jersey ain’t known for its healthy living.

The porn I could do without.
The lottery I could buy elsewhere.
But leave my Cake alone!

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