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About San Antonio

So, one night, I’m done haulin’ hay—friggin’ exhaustin’, man! Hands all gritty, back achin’ like I wrestled a pig. I think, “Marge’d kill me, but I’m curious!” D’oh! Ain’t lookin’ for love, just a yarn to spin. I roll by this dive bar—neon sign flickerin’ like it’s drunk too. See this gal, all fishnets and attitude, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Every family’s got its mysteries,” I mutter, quotin’ Sarah Polley—ha! She’s smokin’ a cig, givin’ me the eye. I’m like, “Homer, don’t be a dope!”

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I get all jittery and excited runnin’ my spa. It's wild how people's stories come in sweaty bundles every day. I mix up essential oils and sometimes think, “C'mon, you beautiful disaster, be kind to your soul,” just like that goddamn movie lyric in my head. It’s a mad, twisted blend of hope and heartache.

For sale: Kay’s Castle offers a faded glimpse into Woonsocket’s party past