jimmy valentine

rumor had it he was a smackhead, though I pegged him for more of a tweaker. dude was always bouncing off the walls the second he walked in the bar, no matter what time of day. regardless of his affliction, he was a fucking nightmare to deal with. a disaster with a mustache and cartoon character name.

“I swear my name is Jimmy Valentine!” Jimmy Valentine would always say, even when people weren’t questioning its authenticity. which was always. no one gave a shit what his name was; they just wanted him to shut the fuck up.

“see? look!” I had seen his driver’s license no less than three hundred times. he was an organ donor. I silently wept for whomever lost that lottery. 

“Jimmy, you know the rules.” I’d all too often respond, referencing made-up guidelines applicable to him and only him. such stuff was necessary for someone who regularly wore a pink and black mullet wig and referred to himself in the third person as if he were a professional wrestler.