OR FOR.

If not for my ever dwindling groups of Lincoln friends.
Or for a higher per capita of heavy drinkers and smokers.
Or for real beards and non-chain but pretentious coffee shops.
Or for my favorite little place to sit downtown.

I will still come back. To Lincoln. Or anywhere I have frequented in NE. As often as possible.

For this reason.

(curtains part, man [me] sits in front of Starbucks in the dim glow provided by the lights in front of the shop, reading a thick book and smoking a hand rolled cigarette, wearing a black formal military jacket over a faded clever t-shirt, embarrassingly pre-faded jeans, and overly broken-in army boots. A light sprinkle covers the sidewalk intermittently, a few clouds cover half of Orion, the temperature hovers around 50 degrees.)

(stupid old man enters stage left, wearing a stupid t-shirt and stupid shorts)

S.O.M.: "Aren't you cold out here?"
Me: "Fuck, no."

(End scene)

If I either, a. start wearing shorts or b. grow a weather vagina, please have some sort of intervention for me.