by El Gallo
Monkey Junction, Newfoundland, Afghanistan
October 2, 2000
This is a place you meet the real cream of the Island riff-raff. Alcoholic doper gringos on pension, entry-level narcotics producers and wholesalers, fishermen tired of fish, wide-eyed American college kids passing through, federal cops radiating bad karma, sweet kids picking up a pizza for mama. Big pizzas cost a couple of bucks. They scammed a frig somewhere, too, so now you can get a cold pop. Watch out that Ed, an old Brooklyn jazz freak on the lam from the law of averages and living in a seaside cottage for like $40 a month and smoking $100 of dope a month, doesn't scam you out of a slice. On the other hand, it's worth a slice to hear his rap. Once.
Thing is, they make a good pizza. And when you're old, you'll always remember this as the oddest pizzeria you ever ate at.
From journal Rural, empty beach a boat ride from "civilization"