Every morning, we stop at the
Haymarket Cafe for
coffee and
chai, now that they have a
door on the
street. On the
brick wall by the door, it says
AVOCADO
SEED
SOOP-A-
VOOTY!
We are
convinced that this is not
nonsense. This is our
secret society.
Soop-A-Vooty!is our
shibboleth and an acceptable
substitute exclamation for
ay dios mio!. Soop-A-Vooty is the name of
my car, my car is a song by
Cheviomega. Why say
Vroom when you have this option?
Avocado seed?
Soop-A Vooty!
Avocado seed
complements your
Naugahyde. Avocado seed
commiserates when you're
sick. You're not a
freak when avocado seed is around. Your friends know you best.
Somebody wrote this on the wall - in chalk! Yet after a year (more? gddmn it, maybe.) it's still there. Is it elsewhere? are we the only ones who see it, blearily stumbling into the cafe/juicebar at 7 AM? It's a secret message. It's our appropriation of someone else's inside joke, an inside-out joke. We are the chosen, the commuters, damned to be free. And this is our cry.