Fast and Furious

A Tale of the Future?

I started out a solid 4.2 which was almost enough to qualify for a table at Trois Mec. “Sorry,” the doorman said, you’ll need to be a minimum of a 4.32 to dine here. Well, whatever then…

It was all good till I headed to the gas station, and some old geezer barked at me and said I cut him off on 7th Street right by Party On Balloons. Then two dumpy old grumblers, Fake Jesus Chasers, marked me down for reminding them that Jesus wasn’t a politician.

Finally, inside the Pit Stop, I headed for a spigot of caffeine and spilled my Giant Chug, it slipped right through my grimy hands like wasted time. Why the hell did I take off today?
“What are you TRYin’ to do?” The counter girl yelled at me.
“What are you looking at?” I yelled back at her.
She might have been able to do her job if she had been plugged into an energy IV. Undaunted, the counter girl grabbed her phone along with five customers waiting in line, and they all marked me down. My score plummeted into free-fall mode.

I called my friend Stacy Marie.
“What? Don’t scream. What’s your score?”
“2.8, no, 2.5, no…”
“Geez! You’re pathetic. I can’t be caught with a loser like you now!” she shouted at me.
I could hear stars falling all around me hitting the ground like silver bells smashing into tiny, shimmering pieces.
“You won’t help me? You gold digger nobody!” CLICK! I clicked her right off.