Just to Get Through the Day

Contrary to what I promised on Thursday, my shit is not together…sorry.  So here’s a special “treat” from my upcoming novel:

Clarence rolled his eyes as he motioned violently with his head for his friend to follow him across the street. The two men strolled off quickly, leaving Jike to languish behind the register.

Jike’s eyes followed Clarence as far as the sidewalk when his attention was intercepted by a tall, thin and utterly defeated man who was slowly shuffling toward the station. Jike figured the man was about forty-five years old, but it was difficult to tell as the man’s face was pointed downward and his eyes seemed to be fixed on his shoes. It was as though his footwear held the answer to some important problem. Jike looked toward the shoes to see if he couldn’t use his superior intellect to help him figure it all out. Jike’s shoe-puzzle progress was halted as his eyes arrived at the man’s khaki trousers. There was an incredibly large upside-down liquid “U” running from the knee on the man’s left leg to the knee of his right leg. Sooner than expected, the man slowly pushed open the door to the Clarenceoco.

“Hi. Mind if I borrow your gas can? I ran dry a few blocks back.”

“Sir, your pants seem to have borne the brunt of your egestive needs.”

In one motion, the man looked Jike over from head to counter, rolled his eyes and sighed,

“Look. I didn’t understand a word of what you just said except for ‘pants’. Since I got the pants part, I’ll assume that you were smart enough to notice that I pissed my pants and inconsiderate enough to mention it within the first sentence of our little conversation here. Now that I’m clear on that, I don’t want to talk to your fat ass anymore than I have to. Do you have a gas can that I can borrow or don’t you?”

“For our immediate purposes, I think it would be appropriate for you to address my face rather than my…”

“Shut up kid. Look, I was waiting to piss until the gas gauge was low enough to stop. The bottom of the tank runs out faster than the top and I ran dry before I had a chance to find a station. I couldn’t hold it any longer and pissed my pants walking to your shitty knockoff gas station here. I would’ve pissed at the library, but there were a bunch of cops there and I couldn’t get through. So here I stand, humiliated and completely at your mercy. Do you have a goddamned gas can I can borrow or not?”

“I shall disregard your insults and profanity and provide you the answer of no. However, the one-gallon gasoline reliquaries are a mere aisle away and may be procured for a modest nine dollars and fifty cents, my new aqueous confrere.”

“Just what in the hell’s wrong with you? Are you saying that I have to buy a gas can just to come back here and fill up?”

“What is wrong with me? Perhaps I should direct your attention to the fact that my jodhpurs are the ones that remain desiccate. I am simply recapitulating the policy of this establishment.”

The man sighed as he walked over and grabbed the tiny can off the shelf, “Look kid. I’m going to buy this can, one gallon of gas and drive to the next station to fill up. Hopefully they’ll have some Pakistani working there that speaks English. Here’s fifteen bucks. Keep the change. See you in Hell.”

Jike smiled as the thud of the metal door striking the plastic stopper trumpeted the man’s exit.

Jike heaved his considerable heft off of his stool, shuffled around the counter and yelled out the the door, “I appreciate the gratuity! I doubt I’ll see you in purgatory, as I’m expected elsewhere, but I’m confident that you’ll get there…you can rest assured that your trousers will dry very quickly!”

The man could only manage to shake his head as he quickly filled his new container, turned and sulked down the sidewalk into the distance. One line of sludge haulers passed and he was gone. Another line of sludge haulers passed from the opposite direction and she was there. Tight, tight black curls. Giant eyebrows. Freckles. Enormous natural breasts that led with purpose. Trouble. It was Carolyn.