THE TIME I DIDN’T GET CANNOLIS
WORK IN PROGRESS 2A BADGE DESIGN
well sailors, we’ve made it to friday. congrats!
it’s been a wacky week here in the states— we’re BEGINNING to look a lot like the countries we’ve gone to war with, but we’re now in september— arguably my favorite month of the year. although i know fall doesn’t technically start until the middle of september, fall for me starts when football is back. though i don’t really give a damn about football, it’s always been a marker for me— when i was a kid, i’d always be real stoked about the upcoming flag football season. my brothers and i ended up coaching in that same league in our adult lives— that EXPERIENCE was an absolute blast.
we were at a practice one time on a tuesday night. it was a beautiful fall day— the sun was setting and the breeze was hitting just right. joe and i were approached by a large, bearded italian man. joe had mumbled something under his breath as to give me a heads up that the large fella was approaching us. the conversation went something like this:
“hey buddy! got a couple of bucks to spare?”
before we could get out a formal answer to his question, gino decided to make his pitch.
“look, i got a WHOLE truckload of cannolis but i ran out of gas a couple blocks away. i’ve gotta get back to providence tonight, can you spare 20 bucks?”
classic, right? italian guy driving cannolis down to providence? Seems totally normal.
joe and i look at each other as gino continues to plead his case.
“listen, i’ll bring back cannolis for the whole team!”
In that split second, our ears perked up. in my head, we rubbed our hands together like some evil geniuses and said “oh CANNOLIS, you say?” but that wasn’t the case. i remember it clear as day.
telepathically, joe and i said the same thing to each-other as we both pulled out our wallets.
“this guy better bring us our effin’ cannolis.”
but something sad happened that day. gino walked off into that sunset with a well earned $20 dollars and never came back— i like to think that a grieving mother was stumbling in the streets begging for $20 to pay the last of her sons funeral expenses— or maybe a little girl had a lemonade stand that gino decided to generously tip at— i know that none of these are true and that he just happily scammed two chumps who weren’t worth their chucks out of $20, But i like to think that even bad people are truly good deep down— and if they’re not, god will determine their fate.
sometimes, when we don’t know the difference between right and wrong, an appeal to heaven is our last, and final option— a rule that john locke concluded about tyranny in the Second Treatise of Civil Government. we’ll talk More about locke next week.
enjoy the weekend, folks.
