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Capitol Latino

Politics, Culture, Reporters, Thieves

Sunday morning. 5:31am. At Quicktrip. $13.84 for 3 packs of Marlboro Lights. This week’s Smoker’s Special.
“Well, technically the Smoker’s Special don’t start ’til Monday, but I seen you around before,” says the girl at the counter.
“Wha? Oh. Likewise,” I reply, but I talk, think too fast, and my brain screams Wrong word! just before the girl at the counter opens her mouth to say: “Huh?
“I said, I’ve seen you around also. You’re always working!”
“Oh just Tuesday-Thursday-Sunday. I’m nights at Stefanina’s now.”
“Oh really? How’s that going?”

Nod. Wow. Really? Oh…well, that sucks. I’m sorry. Well that’s good. Well, hopefully it works out. Tell ’em I said hi!

I get my change and turn to flee when…
“So what’re you doin’ nowadays? You still with…uh?”
GodDAMMIT. “…Crystal. No, we broke up three years ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry!   So what’s she been up to?”
“She’s a super-accountant now in D.C., making the fat cash….”
“Oh…well, good for her!”
“I agree. [glance at cellphone] Well I gotta run. My dad needs his car back. It was great seeing you, though.”
“Yeah I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Fuck.

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