Looking at a chair. Actually, kneeling and looking at a chair. Kind of an old chair. One of those lawn chairs. Although I called it a beach chair, don’t know the difference.
Putting the headphones on. And listening to a conversation in the stairwell down the hallway. Something about starting a new chapter. Giving up on fighting for a problem before. I don’t really think they know I’m listening from this room.
Someone in the other stairwell talking about stealing a painting, then quieting down after seeing the microphone. Someone outside talking on the phone. It sounds like they have an interesting way of walking. But I can’t hear them anymore because 3 cars and a fire truck are passing.
A giant radio, an enormous radio, that’s what it was. An apparently big ugly wood radio with dials and switches that glow with a green light. A big chair, that’s broken and old, that was found, and green. An audio control mixer and microphones. And headphones. And someone listening to people talk clearly through walls.Putting the headphones on. And listening to a conversation in the stairwell down the hallway. Something about starting a new chapter. Giving up on fighting for a problem before. I don’t really think they know I’m listening from this room.
Someone in the other stairwell talking about stealing a painting, then quieting down after seeing the microphone. Someone outside talking on the phone. It sounds like they have an interesting way of walking. But I can’t hear them anymore because 3 cars and a fire truck are passing.
McDonald’s Last Call. 2024.
There’s nothing more disappointing than showing up to a 24-hour McDonalds past 10pm and seeing that the drive-through is the only 24-hours thing about the joint. Can’t go inside. Can’t sit down. What a waste.
At 9pm every night, an hour before the Hazeldean McDonalds closes its doors, the restaurant plays a radio broadcast of ever-changing songs for their last call to inside customers. A quite different selection of songs to the standard freeform jazz they play throughout the day.
The switch up acts as a reminder of the closing hour approaching. Something to slowly usher customers out.
Sometimes it’s not about enjoying McDonalds well into the middle of the night. Sometimes it’s just about experiencing something closing. Being a part of something coming to an end. Theres nothing good about a drive-through. But eating inside, with the music, the experience of people being around, and the dearly departing time we must leave at. That’s how it was meant to be.
The late Prince said it best, “I can’t have a hug unless I have a kiss”. I can’t eat my late-night food unless I have my indoor McDonalds experience.
Grand Theft Auto “Cab-enings”. 2024.
Can I play when all I want to do is drive and obey the laws?
When the conflict and violence only flummox the hell out of me. When I no
longer want to run over pedestrians and shoot my guns. When I can’t rob another
convenience store, they know me too well by now. There’s no more fulfilment in
running into other players. I can’t stand another task to follow.
I tell you these nights and days are so beautiful. When was the last time you enjoyed the company of another person in this city. Everything at my fingertips and it was all made for me. When was the last time you took a taxi, saw the city for what it was. Looked out the window as the night passed. Listened to the conversations of people around you. Listened to the music in the car next to you at the traffic light. Watched all the explosions, gun fights, police chases, robberies, street attacks, gang wars, jet bombardments, military convoys, sleezy business deals gone wrong, hipster posh struts… all from the window of a taxi. Tear drops fill my eyes.
An angel called Downtown Taxi Co came and saved me. Saved me from the carnage of this game. I am no longer responsible. You can do what you please, but I choose to take a taxi. I want to choose from the selected destinations. I want to take it from one end of the map to the other. I want to go from point a to point b. I don’t want to blow things up anymore. I want to take a taxi in the game Grand Theft Auto.
I tell you these nights and days are so beautiful. When was the last time you enjoyed the company of another person in this city. Everything at my fingertips and it was all made for me. When was the last time you took a taxi, saw the city for what it was. Looked out the window as the night passed. Listened to the conversations of people around you. Listened to the music in the car next to you at the traffic light. Watched all the explosions, gun fights, police chases, robberies, street attacks, gang wars, jet bombardments, military convoys, sleezy business deals gone wrong, hipster posh struts… all from the window of a taxi. Tear drops fill my eyes.
An angel called Downtown Taxi Co came and saved me. Saved me from the carnage of this game. I am no longer responsible. You can do what you please, but I choose to take a taxi. I want to choose from the selected destinations. I want to take it from one end of the map to the other. I want to go from point a to point b. I don’t want to blow things up anymore. I want to take a taxi in the game Grand Theft Auto.