Fined Not Less Than $200Posted: July 27, 2016
Rick sauntered down the alleyway, following his nose. His nose had an eye for trouble. He cocked his head to the side as the strains of Blue Oyster Cult trickled down from an open window high above him.
“Turn that up, will you?” His voice shouldn’t have been loud enough to carry that high, but it did, and the music player obliged. Rick carried on, headed straight for the graffiti artist near the corner of the building.
“Nice job you’re doing there,” he said, admiring the work. “I’d say, complex in its simplicity.”
The tagger looked up from his spray paint cans and squinted at Rick, trying to decide how to take that comment. He was only writing profanity on the wall, but he was trying to be artistic about it. He decided Rick was sincere.
“Alright, thanks man.”
Rick took a step closer. “I just got back from Idaho. Can’t find good work like that there. Well, maybe in Des Moines, but I didn’t spend much time in the city.”
The artist lowered his can, turning his body to face Rick. “I thought Des Moines was in Iowa.” He was starting to look a little more concerned about Rick’s motives.
Rick laughed. “You got me, man. I ain’t never been out of state.” He held out his right hand, as if to shake. When the other man tentatively reached out, Rick snatched his hand back and spit on the ground. “Pick up your shit when you’re done. We don’t like littering in this neighborhood.” He jammed his hands in his pockets, spun on one heel, and walked off.
“What a weirdo,” the artist muttered to himself, turning back to his profanity.