Love Cowboy Vs. The Recent Surge Of Very Specific Graffiti Around Town These Days Day!

I entered my apartment through the front door, 'cause the only other way in's the window and being as I had the key to the front door, I figured I'd use it.

"No reason to make things harder on myself," I said out loud because I was drunk. First thing I did when I got through the door was lug my two six packs of Sierra Nevada into the kitchen and start loading them into the icebox. I always came home with two six packs, even on nights like that late Sunday when I'd probably already had six pints and it was nearing one AM. I knew I didn't have it in me to stay awake long enough to drink any more than four or five bottles. But when I'm at the store, I'm thinking ahead, and I'm thinking behind, about those horrible nights when I managed to run out of beer and I had to drink my last one terrified that when the bottle was empty I'd either have try to go to bed or go to the store for another six pack, which would mean leaving the house again. So when I'm walking up the steps to my apartment, I'm usually lugging twelve glass bottles underneath my arm. Which is why when I get inside my apartment, I'm usually really sweaty.

"And thirsty," I said out loud as I cracked open my first (seventh?) beer because I was drunk. I then picked up the phone to dial the Love Cowboy voicemail box. I was relieved to find it empty. But my home answering machine was blinking for one message, so I tapped it to play.

Some lady's voice: "Love Cowboy. You don't know me at all, but I know you somewhat. And I know you're the one to help me. You might've noticed the recent surge of rather specific graffiti going up around town these days. Well I know something about it and I want you to help me put a stop to it. You'll be phoned again tomorrow at 3 PM to arrange a time when we can meet."

I went back to the fridge for my second (eighth?) beer and I let a dozen questions bustle through my head. What fucking graffiti? Who cares? And like ten others. Including, What's this lady doing calling me Love Cowboy on my home answering machine? Hardly anybody knows me and the Love Cowboy are the same person. Sometimes I'm not even sure.

I had no idea what I meant by that last thought. One thing I did know was she was gonna have a hell of a time getting ahold of me at 3 PM the next day. I had an appointment to register with a new temp agency at 2:30 and by 3:00 I'd be halfway to acing my Microsoft Office testing and I'd be damned if I was gonna screw that up just to talk about some bullshit graffiti.

I made an effort to push all the Love Cowboy business out of my head so I could think about Emma's face until I passed out sitting up on my couch.

AND SO BEGINS the exciting adventures of Love Cowboy! Because today's Love Cowboy Vs. The Recent Surge Of Very Specific Graffiti Around Town These Days Day!