Robbing A Convenience Store
Posted May 18, 2010on:
I stumbled inside the dinky 7-11 packing two bright yellow squirt guns as my heat. Despite the dizzy feet and double-vision that now had a hold of me, I was still functional enough to know that fate was doom at this point. However, most of my conscience had now been dissolved thanks to some cheap vodka and a nasty break-up a few hours earlier. How the hell was I supposed to know there’s a difference between the Eagles and the Falcons? They’re both birds for Christ’s sake. Maybe I got a bit carried away when I chucked that wine glass, but our Valentine’s dinner should NOT be second in line to a god damn sports broadcast. Besides, we live thousands of miles away from Canada. Who needs a Canadian football team as their favorite? Love yer own city, Barry. Traitor.
“Did you need something miss?” Judging by the cold and bitter tone behind the cash register, I apparently had gotten lost in thought again. Fuck, how long have I been standing here? Long enough. “Gimme the special of the day….and spare me the bullshit.” I revealed my tiny sidekicks, resting their triggers against my pointer fingers.
I couldn’t tell if this guy was laughing or in panic. Millions of tiny wrinkles divided his face in such a patterned way, it looked as if I could peel pieces of skin from his cheekbones and form my own little jigsaw puzzle. (Shudder, shudder.) Beneath the layers of aging epidermis, I managed to make out a toothless grin, that to this day still makes me wish God had spared me a gag reflex. He slowly lifted his veiny left hand from underneath the counter and pulled out a gun of his own. Only his was shiny and didn’t leak when you tilted it sideways. “Yer toast, bitch”, he uttered, murdering syllables as he spoke them.
Shock set in, but not so much as to paralyze. Luckily, Mom had been right about increased agility via Wii Tennis. And luckily, this time I had listened. Dodging the first shell was like being on the receiving end of a doubles match with the Williams’ sisters. With no partner. Minus a racket. Shhhhewww! (A near hit.) Wicked speed encased in stainless steel proved to be my toughest enemy yet. And I thought Barry was bad.
(To be continued….maybe….haha.)