Take a walk on the wild side...Doo, Doo Doo, Doo Doo Doo

Years ago, back when I knew everything but didn't know any better I enjoyed the wild side, or at least watching it.

I loved hanging out it bars, the seedier the better.

Local urban hangouts in neighborhoods that most of my friends were wary of driving through.

Late night's on Mission & E 14th in Hayward & San Leandro, MLK and San Pablo in Oakland.

The Caravan Lounge next to the San Jose Greyhound,  and my favorite place of all time to people watch, Frank's 21 Club on the corner of Turk & Taylor in the heart of San Francisco's Tenderloin.

I knew some sketchy folks, partied and drank with many but almost always kept my distance to maintain my suburban white collar respectability that went along with the flaunting of a full time job.

As a 50-something grown up man with a wife and a child and a mortgage, I now reside in picture postcard small town, semi rural America, far from the hustle & bustle of hustlers & bustlers.

But every once in a while, in the dark of night with Tom Waits "Blue Valentine" playing on the mini van stereo, I get that old feeling, that old itch for the wild side. The wrong side of the tracks where nefarious stuff goes down.

That's when that maroon Japanese import soccer mom mini van drives itself to the closest thing we have to a downtown.

While it's closer to a Norman Rockwell or Petula Clark Downtown, if the lighting is juat so, and the music is at the right volume, and you squint just right, Grove Ave in Prescott, AZ can almost pass for a real Tom Waits Downtown.
Almost.

That's when I pull into the C Stop.

The C Stop is a seedy little liquor store that would just as easy fit on LA's nickel or SFs Mission , as it does right here on Prescott Prescott's Grove.

It's dark and dank, there's a van parked out front, the neon flickers, and you feel just a little dirty & crooked walking in.

The flat pack of Trident Sugar Free Melon gum might as well be an 8 ball for all the adrenaline it causes to rush through your veins as the tattoo'd & pierced cashier casually rings up.  To add to the mood, I slide her 3 singles, folded up under my palm as I keep one eye on her, one on the parking lot just in case The Man is watching.

While 4 out of 5 dentists prefer it, who knows what The Man will slap you with if caught with 12 sticks of Melon chew.

I made my buy, got back to the van without getting pinched, and sampled a sweet stick for the ride home.

C Stop... if Lou Reed chewed gum while traveling through town, I have no doubt he'd buy it at C Stop.