The day started with a phone call, Maitland management called to tell my rig was blocking the Maitland's dumpster and I needed to move it now. It isn't easy driving an 18 wheeler and living in an apartment complex. The tight switchbacks in the parking garage make it impossible to park so in the garage so I am left to park in the loading dock. So, every Tuesday morning is trash day, I am abruptly awoken to move my truck, I use this inconvenience as an excuse visit to the Corner Tavern while the garbage men empty the dumpsters.
As I walk through the parking lot, I see the spot where Mr. Evans was found, old police tape rolls across the concrete as a tumbleweed in the cold breeze. I shudder and keep walking. I see the garbageman, after months of this routine, waiting for my truck to move. As I climb into my truck, I nod. The Corner Tavern is an upscale eatery by night and a coffee shop reeking of gentrification by day. Luckily, early Tuesday mornings aren't a very busy time for the restaurant so I pull my truck into a row of spaces. I usually use this time as time to work on my screenplay, but today I was feeling visual arts so I brought my pastel set to the tavern. I sat inside the tavern, looking at my truck reminding myself of the Walmart haul I had scheduled for later this week. I was counting the days until my audition with a production company in the city, then, I could sell my truck and focus on my art. But, at the same time, I wouldn't be surprised if the fragile egos and gross ignorance of the populous would be to understand the message of my art. At my last audition, the producers said my acting was "forced" and "made everyone feel very uncomfortable." Shows what they know. The managers of the local Walmarts have also asked me to stop stocking my "disturbing" art onto the shelves. I sneak the art into the load, hoping that I can bring enlightenment to one of the sheep shopping at Walmart.
When Mr. Evans died, it was never really picked up by anyone, the news ran a 50 word news report, and Mr. Evan's family ran a cheap obituary. I decided to make art to celebrate and make light of his death and life. Some could argue my art went a little too far, depicting the man as a small rodent being crushed under a wheel, conveniently labeled as "Life," is bound to turn heads, especially when there is a a sister piece of art showing in detail, the left over roadkill, I spent 2 hours working on the shape of the splatter. When that art showed up on the shelves of Walmart, I got a few phone calls.
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