dont call me daughter

i buy my expensive finery in a place called santee alley

its close to the amazing flower mart, blocks away from skid row.

the other day i was shopping for various items when i saw the most interesting scene.

usually theres guys with little RC cars zipping around to the shouts of “5 Dolla 5 Dolla!” or ladies hawking colored contact lenses.

you might even see a guy with a foot the size of a large pizza just sitting there in the middle of the walkway and i guess youre supposed to put money into his cup out of pity.

anyways the other day i didnt see any of those people, but i did see a guy with a plastic bag with a stuffed animal tail sticking out of it.

the gentleman would step on the bag and make cat screaming sounds.

it wasnt clear what he was selling: was it the plastic bag with the tail? did he have a device in his mouth that was for sale that sounded like a cat yelling in intense pain?

or was he just doing some dark, twisted, performance art?

my shopping companion suggested that he was merely creating a distraction and that we should hold on to our wallets, but im a trusting man so i was simply hoping that he was an artist, performing, right there in santee alley.

which probably isnt at all the case.

later i saw a lady selling little baby tshirts, for babies, that had the words “free chorizo” written on the front, with an arrow pointing down.

i pretended that she was a performance artist also.