EBT

 

(The smell of victory.)

Today, I woke up at 8 a.m. and had a cup of coffee on the patio. Mom and her dogs were with me. Julius the angry Schnauzer kept barking and growling.

I said, “Shut the fuck up.”

Mom said, “Be nice to my puppies.”

“Julius has a lot of mental problems.”

She took a sip of her beverage. “That’s true. I got him on the cheap because of his behavioral issues. They cut $125 from the price. But down deep he’s really a good boy.”

“How much did you pay for him?”

“$375.”

Julius is nice to my mom and my stepfather and Nurse Ken. But he treats me and Rice-Boy Larry like shit. In fact, he often snaps at us. Yet the situation isn’t dangerous. The dog is old and missing most of his teeth. Dental problems are a huge problem in rural America…even among the animals.

Later that morning, I called Rice-Boy’s primary-care physician in order to arrange an appointment for his skin. I’m trying to get him on Accutane. But shit fell apart fast after speaking to the receptionist.

She said, “How can I help you?”

“I’m trying to make an appointment for my son.  He’s on Medicaid, and you guys are listed as his primary-care physician.”

“That’s impossible. This doctor is a pulmonary specialist, so you need to call Medicaid and straighten the matter out.”

And that’s what I did. The lady I spoke to was very nice. She sent me a list of physicians in my area and told me that I needed to call them to see if they would accept Larry as a new patient. I know that most of the doctors will run for the hills. You can’t buy a brand-new Cadillac and join a posh country club when you’re working for the poor.

In the afternoon, Mom and I drove to Walmart to use my EBT card. But we ate a Chinese buffet before shopping for food.

Mom said, “Don’t worry. We’ll find a doctor for Larry.”

I nodded. “I know. I just have to be patient.”

“Are you sorry you came to America?”

“Not really. I wanted the boys to be together in life. It kind of sucks when you’re separated by an ocean.”

“I’m sure that Larry will do well in school.”

“I fucking hope so. This town is filled with fuckheads and retards. If you can’t beat these hillbillies academically, then there’s pretty much no hope.”

She frowned. “You’re such a negative son of a bitch.”

“What did I say?”

By the time we got to Walmart, I was truly on the verge of shitting my pants. I had to run into the store in order to empty my bowels. The stench was putrid. In fact, it was so rancid that I felt ashamed of myself.

I worry about my health. I used to weigh nearly 270 pounds, but now I’m down to 200. I guess that’s good news, but I’m always worried about cancer. That’s the disease that killed my father.

Anyway, we threw eighty bucks worth of meat into the shopping cart.

I said, “Get some more. I’ve got 300 on the card.”

“Don’t you think we should try it out first? What happens if it fails?”

“I guess you’re right. We can always come back to buy some more in the future.”

So we went to the self-swipe area and rang up the vittles. Then the moment of truth came. I put the card in the machine and…bingo! It worked. Easy. Peasy. Lemon squeezee.

It was one of the few victories in my life.

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