"In a row???" I ask, incredulous.
"Nah, man."
"Were you at least #37?"
"Well, yeah. But still that gets to me," he says. He starts counting change, playing with pennies on the glass counter.
"If you didn't see it, it didn't happen," I reply. I pull out a $5.00 bill.
"That's childish!" He looks at me like I'm a babbling idiot.
"That's my life!" It was my life.
"I can't believe you sometimes," he says. Nobody can, bud.
"You better start. I'm smarter than I look." I'm bluffing now; I'm a ******* idiot.
"Yeah, yeah. Do you wanna buy anything or not?" he goes back to his pennies on the glass counter.
"Yeah--Marlboro Reds," I reply hesitantly. For a moment I thought about Camels.
"$5.00 even." It's always $5.00 even when you're with friends.
"Alright."
"Shorts or 100s?"
"****, man, shorts!" It's my turn to look at him like he's a total stranger.
"Just asking." He puts the bill in the register.
"Shorts say badass. 100s say suicide mission."
"I suppose you're right."
"It makes perfect sense!"
"Either way you're going to die."
"Yeah? So are you, buddy."
"*******."
I exit the convenience store, pack my Marlboro Reds, turn two up (one for luck, one for ****, to be smoked lastly out of the pack) and light one.
