delicacy. It’s divine.” They ordered
it, the waiter brought it out, and I
was like, “Dog bones,
motherfucker!” I was not
impressed.
As modestly as we lived at
home, I never felt poor because our
lives were so rich with experience.
We were always out doing
something, going somewhere. My
mom used to take me on drives
through fancy white
neighborhoods. We’d go look at
people’s houses, look at their
mansions. We’d look at their walls,
mostly, because that’s all we could
see from the road. We’d look at a