"I don't have time-" It's over here, behind that nail painting bullshit shop. Best barbecue on the block." That didn't mean much. Many blocks in this ...eighborhood had BBQ vendors. He grabbed my wrist and tugged. I would have screamed, but he let go before I could lose it again. "It's cheap too." His fingers left a white smudge on my wrist.The tug launched me in that direction. I don't know why I continued after that first, forced step. I followed him around the nail salon and other shops. Sure. He growled.The third man up pickled one of my sliders which served me right since the thing hung up there like a birthday balloon. I did not even bother to watch it leave the ball park. Most of the time, you can tell by the sound. The umpire threw me a new ball, and I turned my back on the batter as he circled the bases at a slow and stately pace, enjoying every minute of it while his dugout buried me with their jibes about my age, skinny legs and bald head. I rubbed the ball until its skin was. More

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