Savage Spear of the Unicorn: Stories by Delicious Tacos by Tacos Delicious

Author:Tacos, Delicious [Tacos, Delicious]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-04-11T16:00:00+00:00

The Bitcoin

Friday he got off late from the coffee shop. Had to walk up the hobo alley off Abbott Kinney in the dark, to the residential street where he’d parked his Mercury Topaz. Work lot for customers only. Rough day but they all were. Gloria the goth cashier girl called in sick. He had to cover. He had a crush on her but she was dating some guy in a band. A state worker out of South Carolina had called, threatening a fine. The dishwasher had fathered kids there and he’d forgotten to file the wage garnishment. In his hand, in a clear gallon freezer bag, the now day old vegan almond flour blueberry muffins. No time to cook but it was something.

Suddenly behind a trash heap something moved. He felt his hands raising up, although he couldn’t box. Rats scattered and a coke Zero bottle rolled half cocked over the concrete with a sound like a door knocker. A strange voice rattling off the dumpsters. Can you help me, it said.

Sorry man. He kept walking.

I see you have more food than you need sir.

Yeah I’m gonna eat it.

But I’m hungry sir. It’s Christmas sir.

Go fuck yourself, he said.

And what– said the voice, behind him now– if I were to give you something in return?

He turned. There on a piss stained twin size mattress with BEDBUGS spray painted under skull and crossbones, an old man sat Indian style. He wore black rags, black boots; white hair, brown teeth, and in his hand a bamboo cane with a brass serpent head whose eyes caught the moonlight malevolently. His skin like a coal miner daguerreotype. But something young in his gaze.

I see you’re not an unreasonable young man.

What are you gonna give me, fuckin cans? Here, I’ll give you a muffin. Sorry for being a dick, hard day–

Oh no! I couldn’t take a handout . Where’s the honor in that? I will trade you. A gift for a gift. Your bag there, for this. He reached into a vest pocket with fingers impossibly long, all soot black tendons, and waved, with a flourish, what might have been a Costco card.

Did you steal someone’s credit card?

The man mimed a hurt look. Oh no, sir. I am no thief. This was a gift, from a visionary man. And now mayhap it shall be yours.

What is it?

This, my boy– is a bitcoin.

A whatcoin?

A bitcoin! This card has upon it a code for a most fantastical financial instrument sir- a crypto-currency!

How much is it worth?

What price is a miracle sir? This bitcoin and others like it will revolutionize the world! No more banks! No more thieves, money changers in the temple. The miracle on this card will enable seamless, private peer-to-peer fiscal transactions, any time, anywhere, built upon blockchain technology-

OK- fuck it– take it. I gotta go.

He handed off the bag, reached out, grabbed the card. Stalked off to the Topaz as the moon glowered through the smog and the old man laughed savagely in the growing distance through a mouthful of muffin.

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