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“X-Ray,” said X-Ray. “And that’s my man Armpit.”
“Armpit, huh?”
“A scorpion—”
“Tell you what,” said Felix. “After you get your tickets, come talk to me.”
“We’re going to have to leave straight away,” said Armpit. “I got an economics test.”
“Listen to me, Armpit,” said Felix. “I bring you a breakfast taco, the least you can do is talk to me. If you’re studying econ, then you should know. There’s no such thing as a free lunch.”
The ticket windows didn’t open until ten after eight, and the line moved excruciatingly slowly.
“C’mon, c’mon. How long does it take to buy a ticket?” X-Ray yelled at the people in front of him.
There were two ticket windows. X-Ray went first, and when Armpit reached the one next to him, he could hear X-Ray arguing with the ticket agent. “Are you sure this is the best you got? Well, can you check?”
Armpit paid for his tickets. They were all in row M. He counted in his head. The thirteenth row. On the back of each ticket, printed in bold letters, were the words This ticket may not be resold.
“M’s good,” said X-Ray. “It’s the first half of the alphabet. That’s all that matters. Just look at all those fools still waiting in line!” He laughed. “They’ll be lucky if they’re in the same zip code.”
Armpit pointed out what was written on the back of each ticket, but X-Ray wasn’t concerned. “They can write anything they want. It doesn’t mean squat. This is America. Everything’s for sale.”
They watched as Moses paid the last member of his crew.
“Those guys are so cool,” X-Ray said. “That could be us in a few years.”
Felix headed toward them. “So, X-Ray, you get good seats?”
“Row M!”
“M’s good,” said Felix. “First half of the alphabet.”
“That’s what I was tellin’ Armpit.”
“The first few rows are reserved for friends and radio stations. It’s a rip-off, but what can you do?”
“What can you do?” X-Ray agreed.
“Tell you what. I’ll give you seventy bucks for each ticket. That’s fifteen more than face value. Times twelve, you’ll make a hundred and eighty dollars. Ninety bucks each.”
“They cost sixty, not fifty-five,” said Armpit.
“Yeah I know,” said Felix. “There’s a five-dollar service charge. What a rip-off. But the thing is, you try to sell the tickets, and all the customer’s gonna see is the face value.”
“We’re not interested,” said X-Ray.
“All right, I’ll pay the damn service charge. Seventy-five a ticket.”
“We can do a lot better,” said X-Ray.
“Maybe,” Felix agreed. “Maybe you can. I’m not saying you can’t. But you never know. A bird in the hand. Ninety dollars, Armpit, for just a morning’s work. Hard to beat that.”
“We’re not interested,” said X-Ray.
“Armpit looks interested. How about it, Armpit?”
It did sound pretty good to him. Ninety dollars was more than he made in two days of digging.
