Take The Long Way Home

FUCK it's cold outside! I knew I should have brought a coat. Or at least a jacket. All I'm wearing is this tattered Red Wings t-shirt, a tribute to the days when people actually gave a damn about the NHL. I'm on my way home now, if you can call Subz my home. I guess I have a bed and a bathroom, so I can't ask for much more.
Anyways, my nipples are so frozen they are nearly poking holes through this shirt. I see my breath forming furious clouds of water vapor as it leaves my mouth. I can't even remember how long it's been since I've actually been able to FEEL my toes. Than again I am slightly inebriated so that might have something to do with it.

I'm now walking past Goldstein and Frick's Bank. Now THOSE are some Jew names! I resist the sudden strong urge to enter the bank and superglue some change to the floor of the bank, just to see how many people will struggle to pick it up. I turn onto my street. I can see Subz off in the distance, a beacon of hope on the horizon. By hope, I of course mean overpriced deli meats, breads, cheeses, rabbit-food, other vegetables, and condiments. My shoes crackle lightly as they step over the rough cement of the road. Some people say my shoes are ripped and torn, and I need to get new ones. I like to think they have lots of character.
I have FINALLY made it to Subz. I reach out with my frozen fingers and pull the door handle towards me. At risk of sounding like a pansy, it actually kind of hurts, because my fingers are SO frozen. To make things worse, the door is locked. I should have worked at a 7/11! Anyways, I now have to make my way over to where our spare key is hid - inside of a sandy, desert, fake rock, that fits in worse in these urban surroundings than Paris Hilton would on "Survivor" (copyright, CBS, all rights reserved. Any attempt to use this word without the express written consent of CBS is strictly prohibited) - and took it out. I unlocked the door of Subz and walked inside.