Shopping with Bukowski

I'm up early. The coffee is on and I'm reading some of Bukowski's short stories. If you're not familiar with Bukowski, he was a writer and poet that is associated with the Beats, but to me he doesn't really fit into that association. He possesses far less of the hippyness and more of the drunken, gambling, lecherous loser category that would seem to ridicule the Dharma Bums sooner than he would embrace them.

I like his stuff because there's a rawness and honesty to it. He puts it all out there and he tells it like it is; boils, warts, shit, puke, and all. He's a controversial figure in the writing world and probably more so, from a poetic standpoint. He's misogynistic, rude, crude, dirty and incredibly funny.

I, myself have to be careful as I'm an easy mark. I have a tendency to be influenced by the influences around me. Just because Chuckie boy got away with speaking his mind, doesn't give me license to do the same.

Yesterday was a good case in point. I stopped at a corner store, as if there is such a thing anymore. I bought a paper and as the cashier rang it up, asked me if I had my rewards card handy. My mind immediately raced with flurry of one liners and rude responses, one of which being, "Does Big Brother really need to know that I do the crossword in USA Today?" But I smiled, said "no" and kept my comments to myself.

I have to remember that I'm not Bukowski...but I'm slipping.