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“I’m too tired for lies, so I’m going to keep quiet. By the way, how’s the finger?”
“Attached.” He said something to Sam in the background, then put his mouth close to the receiver again. “You on your way to the club?”
“Where else?”
He grunted. “Stop and get us both drinks from that coffee place—you know the one. We want that special drink all the girls have been liking.”
I almost laughed, because the drink was pink, but held my tongue. Vinny gave me a prepaid card for the times he wanted me to stop and pick things up for him and Sam. It just so happened that I needed one of those drinks he was referring to, a pick me up, so I didn’t want to piss him off by laughing at him.
“I’m ordering me one for the trouble.”
“You get the points for that reward bullshit. That’s my contribution to your caffeine habit.” He hung up.
The line seemed like it was around the block, but since Vinny insisted…I used the time to try to relax myself. I closed my eyes and let the warm air envelope me. It wasn’t as hot as it was earlier. More tepid. The sun had gone down, and Vegas was just waking up.
A car honked at me from behind. The line had started to move, and I was still idle. I had fallen asleep. I waved out the window, and about ten minutes later, I placed my order.
“Great timing!” the girl behind the microphone chirped at me. “We only have enough milk to make three more drinks!”
Finally. Something going my way. Maybe this was a sign life was going to start turning around for me. It was a little win, but like small losses, they add up to the big stuff. I pulled up to the window with a smile. I’d made the cut.
The girl frowned at me. “I’m sorry. The car ahead of you forgot to add on a drink, and we can only make two drinks. Is there anything else we can get you in its place?”
Right. Right. Fucking of course.
“I’m really sorry.” She gave me an annoying smile to go with the fake apology.
“I don’t want anything else.”
“Okay! $14.00 then.”
For this, Vinny and Sam were getting taxed. Meaning, I was going to take sips out of theirs to cover the loss of mine.
After I paid, she ran back to grab the drinks. She handed them to me, and I set them on the passenger seat. As I went to pull off, the car in front of me slammed on its brakes. Mine were a little too slow to react, and I almost smashed into the back of the car. The two drinks, carrier and all, flew to the ground and made a pink puddle on my plastic floormat.
What. The. Fuck.
The driver, a young woman who looked like she had thousands of dollars around her wrist, stepped out of her car and made a shooing motion with her hand.
She wanted me to back up.
Fifty cars deep and she wanted me to fucking back up?
I flung the car in park and stepped out, holding on to the door. “Where do you want me to go?”
“They forgot to give me a straw.”
A straw? For a drink that had a cap with a mouth hole in it!
“Here’s the deal,” I snapped. “There are fifty cars behind me. I can’t move them. As you can clearly see, I’m not the She-Hulk.” Or I would have long turned green by fucking then.
“Get me a straw then.” She waved to the window. “You’re closer.”
Who the fuck did she think she was? A princess?
A new crack seemed to develop—inside of my mind. But it wasn’t one of those that made a line. It was a real and true crack. A snap.
I marched to the other side of my car and yanked the two plastic cups from the floor. Dregs of the pink liquid rolled around the sides before they pooled at the bottom of the plastic. I flung them both at her car, making it look like someone had puked Pepto Bismol on her paint job. She was screaming, pointing her bubble-gum-colored nails at me, and her diamond-encrusted phone was up to her ear.
