"I'm not just virtue signalling when I say this," the winning player
says to me.  The loser looks discouraged.  He folds, setting down his
hand for all of us to see.  One motorist, that's about it, not even
white.  I set down my hand too, sure I've won now.  Four law
enforcement officers and a young mother pushing a stroller.  The
winner smiles cruelly and shows us.  The loser groans.  2pac shooting
all the badguys in their asses.

I'm pissed.  I stand up from the card table.  If this were a real
cartoon, smoke would be coming out of my ears.  I say nothing for a
moment, seething.  Then I scream at the smug winner, "this entire
system is fucking rigged against autistic communist junkies!" He
chomps down on the most consistent, most regular institutional burger
one could possibly imagine.  He stares at me, chewing like some
animal, his mouth practically moving side to side.  Chomp.  Chomp.  He
says nothing.

The loser looks at what has to be some kind of watch these days, and
says, "looks like it's that time again." People don't know shit
anymore.  I stomp out of the room trying to cool off.  I just need
some space, some time for myself, and it's just nowhere.  I try to
avoid the next problem child but I just can't.  I veer to the side but
he's seen me, it's too late for me.  I push past him to get into the
queue, but I can't block out the noise coming out of him.  I sadly
admit it, near tears.  I do understand, I do.  People do need to know
this.  Yes, there is actual fucking candy growing on fucking trees.

Joe is passing out the medication tonight.  Just my fucking luck.  I
get to the front of the line, it's my turn, and of course, he's
irritated as hell.  I try to make small talk.  It pains me to see this
poor fellow.  It does.  "Your name is Joe, right?" I ask him.

He stares me down like a winner.  "That's not even the first thing
that pissed me off here," he says angrily.  "You know what you've
fucking done."

I feel guilty as shit.  I know it shows on my face.  What can I say to
him now?  I have to address this somehow.  I just have to.  "I
know..." I look at him with as much sincerity as I can imagine into my
eyes.  "I know.  I feel it, brother.  Your job is making even me