Friday, April 11, 1986
Vigilante, Kelly Moore Paint, San Carlos, California
As I turn to enter the parking lot, a man is standing in the middle of the lane, a blockade.
I stop the truck.
He says, “You son of a bitch. I could sue you.”
Leaning my head out the window, I say, "Huh?"
A couple of painters are walking by. One says, “Come on, Frank. Let him in.”
Frank doesn’t budge. “It’s an exit,” Frank says. “He’s trying to enter an exit. See the arrow?”
“So what are you, a cop?” says the painter.
Meanwhile, I'm backing up.
Frank is muttering to himself.
He's sick. Anybody can see.
I salute. With respect. Honest, no sarcasm. With or without pay, every man needs a job. Such as: Parking Lot Vigilante.
Every man needs a purpose.
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