(no subject)
May. 21st, 2005 09:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
benchilada
“First, you in the back, you better
pay for those chips, second, look at me,” she says. Jimmy stops snorting his BBQ chips and faces
her. “Am I pretty?” she asks. “I think you look…” “By society’s standards, am I
pretty?” “Well,” I start before she cuts me
off. “Don’t lie to me. I ain’t no elephant man, but I ain’t winnin’
no pageants, neither. Now, am I smart? Here’s
your hint: I can’t remember my multiplication tables and I don’t know what I
ate for lunch. Am I funny? Just enough so’s it’s not noticed. I ain’t got fuckall going for me in this
goddamn life and I don’t need a couple of white guys coming into my third job
and fucking with me about how many donuts they got in their goddamn bag.” The payphone in the corner rings. She doesn’t flinch. “That’ll be for us, Jimmy,” I say
as I toss him my wallet, “Get my donuts, some Marlboros, and pay for your
Pringles. As soon as I hang up, we’re
going to work. Buy us a dozen
phonecards, too.” I pick up the phone, say “Hello,
please go ahead,” and hold the handpiece away from my ear. Two seconds later a hellish electronic
screaming comes out as our bosses’ scramblers kick in. As the creepy automated voice starts giving
instructions, I hear the clerk admonishing Jimmy. “Fuck you, white man, where you get
off calling me a ‘African Princess?’” “I’m only white in this body, baby, my soul’s as black as
yours.” I try to concentrate on the voice from
the phone as the Princess throws her cherry slushie in Jimmy’s face. “Living fuck, Dan!” he shouts as he
staggers backwards from the impact. I
face the wall, drop to a crouch and fall on my side, snapping out my gun arm as
I tip. I count three guys, all firing thirty-eights at my partner. They seem to be slowing their rate of fire
while their brains try to process why Jimmy isn’t falling down dead. I take advantage of this and squeeze off a half
dozen rounds. They all hit the ground
hard. “Hell, Dan, looks like you missed
this little part of the security detail when you wrote it all down. I really didn’t need to get shot-up this
early in the game.” “Jimmy,” I explain as we jog down
the ramp to the building entrance, “I swear that this was not part of the plan. Not
only was it not in our orders, but it doesn’t make a damn bit of sense for
three men to start firing pistols the moment somebody starts walking towards
them at three in the morning.” “Us not being in the projects, I
have to agree. So what now?” “This,”
Jimmy grimaces, “is officially no longer funny.”
XXX
SNIP
XXX
SNIP
XXX
snip
XXX
---
benjamin sTone
9:10am, May 21, 2005
Urbana, IL
Current Music: "The Incredible Medicine Show" - Moxy Früvous
Last Book I Read a Page of: The Chicago Manual of Style (14th Edition)
Last Movie: FINDING NEVERLAND
Next Movie: THE INCREDIBLES
