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“Are you guys going to pay for the chips?”
I looked up at Barrett expectantly. “I have no dollars.”
“I have dollars,” he gasped with excitement, as if just realizing his power.
I clapped for him. “Will you buy me something with your dollars?”
“Yes.”
We stood there.
“Guys?” The clerk snapped his fingers. “Hello?”
“Huh?”
“You’ve been standing there for ten minutes. You either have to buy something or leave.”
Next thing I knew, we were leaving the store. “I feel like this was a sound purchase.” I tugged my new T-shirt over my dress. It had the cutest little rainbow unicorn on the front and said I’m fucking fabulous! “You should give me your wig.”
Barrett adjusted the long fuchsia wig on his head. “No way, Jose. I look hot.”
We started walking down the empty sidewalk. “But my shirt has a unicorn. Mine matches the wig.”
“Nope. It’s my wig.” He said all of this while eating a hot dog.
I should have got a hotdog. “You either have to give me that wig or give me the rest of your hotdog.”
“Why?”
“Because those are the rules.”
He stopped walking and sighed. “Fine.” He took off the wig and handed it over.
“Your shirt’s a Harry Potter shirt anyway. You need more sophisticated accessories, like a scarf or a wand or glasses.”
“How do you know it’s Harry Potter?”
“It says Word To Your Muggle. What did you think that meant?”
“I thought it was coffee humor or something about mugs.”
I snorted. “No! We’re muggles.” A large neon light flashed behind him and I gasped, shoving him aside. “We’re here!”
The sign said BEER & 24 HOUR TATS.
“What is this magical place?”
“Dude, your face is covered in cheese puff dust.” I tugged open the door. “It’s like they knew we were coming.”
“Did I get it?” Barrett asked, delicately wiping the corners of his mouth.
I looked back at his orange face. “Sure. Come on!”
The bell over the door rang. Barrett followed me inside and a man appeared from a beaded curtain in the back, next to the long wall of beer freezers.
“Can I help you?” A man with a porn-stache appeared and I smiled at his warm welcome.
“Helloo!” I said with a Mrs. Doubtfire accent. “We would like some beers and tats.”
