Hot Sauce and Cigarettes

Georgie

There is a small building ticker outside of the store. The neon green words crawl across the sliver of black background with a cringe-worthy speed that promotes motion sickness.

But if that's not enough to send your eyes twitching, here's one for the grammar nazis out there--the text sliding perpetually into abyss and then returning again had not one, but two glaring offenses to the english langauge:

VISIT OUR PRODUCE SECTION WHERE YOU'LL FIND A WIDE VARITIE OF ORGANIC FRUIT'S.

Now, I've been known to make mistakes, but... as you know, people are quick to criticize others when their own faults gleam so shiny in the mirror.

Seriously though, weren't people with real degrees in charge of this ticker thing? Varitie? Come on, guys. I just stood, staring stupidly at the message, wanting to erase it, correct it. I've been known to be a bit of a perfectionist at times. Only a bit. At times.

My hand twitched. Then there was the familair sound of someone lighting a cigarette next to me, the dull sting of tabacco smoke in my nostrils, even though she blew the smoke away politely.

"Reeves." Demeter then announced, pointing at the ticker, "It bothers me too, but he sets it up like that as a joke."

"A joke?"

"Yes, a joke."

That settled it for me. I would let murder slide, if it made me laugh. Or if the killer had a suitable, honorable reason that made some sense to him/her.

Rose always says I'd be a horrible psychiatrist. I think I said that already. If so, pretend I didn't.

Speaking of Rose, didn't I have to do something after work?

Take trash to curb. No, no forgot that earlier today.

Start english paper. Haha, that wasn't due for another three days. Or two, who knows.

(what was my topic again?? probably the Batman. Bob Dylan's new album is out the 28th of April!)

Oh poo.

VARITIES.

A voice slapped me out of my internal monologue:

"What are you still doing here anyways? You're off work. Go, shoo," Demeter did a swift movement with her hands, like I'm a cat trying to eat her food.

This little bit of movement jogged my memory, and I smiled excitedly, remembering downtown and my new buddies and meeting up with Rose and discussing mental disorders and serial killers, like we usually did.

Though I suppose I really shouldn't bring up serial killers, most people would be turned off by that.

Richard Chase cannibalized and drank the blood of his victims to prevent Nazis from turning his own blood into powder, apparently because of the mold he'd discovered underneath his soap dish one afternoon.

This thought maked me laugh aloud, and Demeter raised her eyebrows at me, crossed her arms, having just stamped out her cigarette.

"Do you have a boyfriend, Georgie?"

"What? No."

"Hm. Never would've guessed."

"Hey..." I began, realizing this was a potential insult.

But then she finished, "Don't get one. And don't stop laughing."

Then she smiled, and disappeared through the glass doors.

Didn't know what was going on in that conversation, but I got Demeter to smile fully for more than a second, so I just stood grinning back dumbly until Sid snuck up and said,

Sid

"Oy."

"Whut."

"You ready? Downtown, remember? Your friend the shrink or hairdresser or something, yeah?"

Georgie spun, sort of tripping. She did that a lot. She always had this sort of vacant look to her too, like her lightbulbs weren't screwed in right or whatever. She was pretty smart, you could tell, she just kind of got lost in herself. Must've had her own world in her head, one that was more entertaining than MadTV back when it was funny.

But hey man, I'm not one to judge you know?

She then nodded, smirking.

My car is awesome. It's bright green, and one of the doors is pink. Vintage mustang, leather seats. Cup freaking holders. Don't ask me how I got it. Way too extreme for you to know.

Riley

His Mommy bought the car.

Sid

Riley's car is gay, it's tiny and blue. Sweet air freshener though. Sea Breeze.

I told Georgie not to get fingerprints on my window as we all climbed in. Riley's up front. I invited Kim cause she's hot but she says no she's tired. Which I don't get because she'd gotten all hot and bothered about this stupid theory anyways. I don't understand girls, you know? And I wouldn't invite Tammy because she always looks at me like I'm fucking crazy anyways. I've forced Tim to tag along though, and he stiffly messed with his tie in the back seat next to Georgie, who stared out at the sun setting with all the trippy colors as I backed out, waving to Reeves as we left the parking lot. He's talking to some guy with sunglasses and a black suit. The guy looks like Patrick Bateman. It creeped me out.

Riley turned on the radio just when I was going to say something.

"Could we... turn it down, please, gentlemen?" Tim piped up a minute later, hands cupped round his ears. They poked out from under his messy blonde bowlcut in a way that annoyed me.

"Ah, shut your yap, yuppie boy!" And I revved down the road. Riley frowned slightly and I said what and he turned it down. Georgie laughs but I don't know what was so funny. I still don't, to this day. She's just weird.

Georgie

There's a Mom and Pop cafe and a homeless man hiding under every threshold of every empty building. Houses are squeezed together strangely, parking is underground, and a huge majestic castle overlooks it all, on the other side of a river. Stores of every color, shape, size, era all down the line of endless street. Some weren't even indoors. A man stood selling Albert Einstein t-shirts mingled in one crooked alley, and iconic posters of upcoming films across the way.

This is our town's city, our 'downtown'.
The street isn't smooth black road like your American city, it's cobblestone with moss poking out that shines when it rains and when the streetlights glow above they reflect pictures and make the people walking look like nothing but a faint blob on Monet's paintbrush.

That particular evening there weren't very many folks, and most began filtering out in tightly knit groups. Women locked arms and men bustled quickly. Because when night came along, downtown was no longer a tourist hotspot (the castle, the river, and the famous bridge was quite a beehive of activity). At dusk it morphed to become the home of clubbers, drunks, and long-time bums. There was hardly ever danger, just antics that scared the strangers away.

We all headed down towards that coffee shop, in a group, but a loosely formed group. Sid was running backwards ahead, picking up trash off the street and launching it in our direction. Riley was catching most of it, galloping and jumping and hurling it back. His curly hair bounced and his nose wrinkled when he laughed. Tim had a look of disgust splayed across his face. I hummed along, taking up the rear and watching everything with interest.

We passed the sex toy shop (named Melvin's for some reason), which Sid took the time to pause and laugh at, making faces in the big window. Tim turned away, Riley kind of shuffled his feet. Me? I was born here, raised not to think to think anything of it. I just peered over to the next building, Rose's workplace.

We arrived at the right time, because she was just opening the tiny door--with a cheerful 'ding'--to leave.

She looked annoyed and frazzled, smoothing back dark brown hairs that had strayed from her bun and surrounded her pale yet strong face.

Rose had blue eyes like mine, only hers seemed to be a bit wiser and more coy. When I ran up smiling, her eyebrows relaxed and her thin mouth returned the gesture. It caught me off gaurd for a moment but I thought nothing of it while I waved up my work buddies to come meet her.

Rose suddenly rubbed her forehead, "Oh, gee, Georgie, this is not exactly social time for me. My boss just yelled at me and I've had a long day. I had to stay late."

"Actually, I came here to discuss a crazy person. They're my ride."

"Your ride?"

"Uh..."

"Salutations!" Timothy arrived first, "I am Timothy."

"See? I didn't make him up." I shrugged.

Rose gave him a funny look, then smiled. They shook hands.

Riley ran up next, bumped into me, waved to her.

Sid busted in, shouting, "Hey my name is SID and don't forget that! What're you called?"

"Rose." And the introductions passed.

"You off work now? It's late." I commented.
"Boss had a fit about something, I already told you that."

"What happ--"

"Who's the crazy person we're discussing? Ed Gaines? Charles Manson? The Jo--"

"It's someone we know."

"Ah, so." This was European slang for 'oh, okay', "Explain?" And Rose began to walk up the street as we ran to keep up. She sometimes walked to work for the exercise, and it wasn't as far from the apartment. Thompson's was too far for me to walk, unfortunately.

We started our stories. The time he tore off all coupons in the store, the morning he came in babbling about how he forgot his shoes at home and began rifling in the frozen section looking for them. He said they were very expensive shoes and he needed them for a choir show. The evening he came in looking for his Queen of the Damned Soundtrack, apparently stuck in one of the Cheez-It boxes. How he'd sometimes carry around a towel, "just in case". The epic fits he threw when Marvin ran out of his favorite brand of Hot Sauce at the deli. The notes. The war with Demeter. Sid interrupted with something about a guy in a suit. Riley pitched in his stories. Tim was very quiet, just staring at her.

"Woah, woah, hold on," She turned, laughing, "What does he look like?"

"Something like a bum-underwear-model-hippie." The thought slid out of my mouth unexpectedly.

"Wears red Ray Bans sometimes. Messy hair." Sid gave me the weird look this time, "And red and white.."

"Striped socks." Rose nodded and we cheered like we'd won a round of charades.

Above us, the streetlights began to glow. A bum rode by silently, carrying a load of sticks on the back of his bike. He had an epic beard, flecked with grey. He mumbled about catching the matinee.

"You know him?" Sid pushed the three of us away and got next to her.

"Yes," she didn't react, kept walking, "Gets a coffee every morning around eight. He does have an odd way of dressing. But he doesn't do any of that stuff. He's actually very nice. He tips a lot when I'm forced to serve and never tries to flirt with me like...." Her voice trailed off and she shivered. I think it was just the wind.

"Bullshit!" Sid looks taken aback, disappointed, disbelieving. A lot of disses.

"Believe me, I have too much on my mind to lie."

"He was rather sane today." I said thoughtfully to myself, then explained what I saw. I even tell her what I remember about the note.

"Ah-ha." Rose pointed a finger up towards the purple orangey blue sky.

"What, what, what."

"I know exactly what he's got."

"What is it?" Sid said, fascinated, "ADD? I got that. Bipolars? Or like some virus like Dyslexia? That one phobia of the color yellow?"

She doesn't bother to explain that dyslexia is not a virus, "No, no."

"Well then what the hell do you think's wrong with him? Gotta send him to the loony bin right?"

"Nuh-uh. I know what it is, I've read about it in class."

"Hm?"

She turned dramatically under a street lamp and laughed like a kid holding the flashlight at a slumber party, telling scary stories.

Then she yawned,
"He's bored. Or he wants attention. That's all."

Sid goes off on her, not satisfied, insisting there's more to it.

"Look, guys, Frued said it, I think: sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."

"And sometimes a crazy guy is really freaking crazy!" Sid yells.

"He's obviously capable of social interaction. We discuss the weather and news all the time. Why don't you guys just ask him?"

"Huh...." We all pause in the middle of the street, having never thought of this.
"Alright," Sid shrugs, "Will do. Tomorrow then."

"Not tomorrow. He won't be there." Tim finally says, and we all turn.

"Why?"

"It's inspection day tomorrow. Demeter will be gaurding the door, to keep him away. She's getting the garden hose out even, I saw."

"The garden hose..." Riley says, amazed.
Sid curses and Rose frowns. She was never a fan of curse words.

"That sounds illegal." I say defensively, "He's a paying costumer, there's no way..."

Riley laughs, "Do you have any idea what he does on inspection days?"

"No." I frown.

"Look, one year...." He gestures wildly, "Oh, never mind, you have to see it to believe it."

We walked on, relaxed amongst shouting bums and singing party-goers in masks, until we reached home. Riley offered me a ride to work the next morning and I took it. We said goodbyes and Sid mumbled something, dragging Tim near him as Rose and I turned to go upstairs, to drown in mindless reality competitions on the TV.

Sid

"Ah, inspection tomorrow, all those stupid yuppies coming in and making sure we're qualified for our jobs, eh guys?"

Riley and Tim nodded.

I didn't tell them my plan to sneak Crazy Guy Abe in.

Sorry, I had to get Sara the Terrible fired. Kicked out. FOREVER. And this year I was going to do it for sure.

She was killing my buzz, you know?