We Are So Screwed

Patience was not one of my strong suits. It never had been. It of course didn’t help that I was loaded and with the swipe of a card, my signature on a check or a simple exchange of cash I could have whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.

Of course that didn’t apply in this situation. I couldn’t pay my best friend to hurry the hell up so that we could leave. Even if she wasn’t just as rich as me, the very notion would only serve to insult her, and she’d take longer out of spite.

“Dude, let’s fucking go!” I screamed up the stairs.

Slater, who could usually go from lounging in her pajamas to being ready for one of the many charity galas we attended in fifteen minutes had been up in her room getting ready for the past forty five minutes, and we were only going to the damn movie theater.

“Bitch, wait a minute!” she screamed back. A second later, she came running down the stairs. “Where are my DCs?”

“Which ones?”

“My blue ones.”

I groaned. “You’ve got like ten fucking pairs of blue ones!”

“With the black-“

“Just put on some fucking shoes. We’re only going to the movies.”

She just gave me an incredulous look. “I’ve seen you spend an hour to go to the damn grocery store.”

“That’s different. I couldn’t find my wallet.”

“No. Your wallet was missing for about five minutes. The wings of your eyeliner weren’t even and we couldn’t leave until they were.”

“Whatever. I was ready today. Now can you shut the fuck up or at least if you’re gonna keep bitch put someday shoes on and start walking?”

She stepped into her shows and followed me out to my car.

“I hate this damn thing,” Slater muttered.

“Get over it. You wanna drive the Ferrari, then drive your-damn-self.”

“I’m just saying my car is pretty fucking boss. It’s a shame it just sits in the garage.”

“You act like you never drive it anywhere. You drove it to the shop yesterday.”

‘And people say I’m the dramatic one.’

“To the shop and back. What fun us that?”

“Go somewhere else. I don’t know what to tell you. My Bugatti doesn’t go anywhere other than from track to garage, but you don’t hear me bitching.”

I was just happy to have it. There were no words that could even begin to describe my love for that car. The engineering behind it was genius, and the results were spectacular. If I could marry a car it would be that one or maybe a Lamborghini Reventón.

How did Slater and I afford such expensive shit? Simple we were heiresses to the largest and most successful chain of hotels and resorts in the world. Our grandfathers had been best friends and together bought their first hotel in New Hampshire. From there it grew and when they retired their sons, who like Slater and I had grown up together and were practically siblings, took over.

“Just drive.”

It didn’t take long for us to end up at the theater. (A normal one. We blew money on cars and homes, not private movie screenings and popcorn flown in from another state.) We got our popcorn, candy and beverages, and found a pair of seats in the back. It was a matinee so there weren’t very many people.A short drive later we were at the theater. We walked in got our food and sat down in the very back.

“This is gonna be fucking amazing,” I said excitedly, sliding the ugly 3D glasses on my face.

I loved all things Transformers, the comics, cartoons, the movies, everything. I had since I was little. Electronics and mechanics were pretty much the center of my universe, taking things apart, putting them back together, the lot of it, so sentient robots that turned into cars, well I was just enamored.

Transformers Dark of the Moon was like the other two, a combination of “Holy fuck! tThat was awesome!” and “What the fuck? That was bull shit.”

When we were walking out of the theater it was all could do not to spit and sputter over my words as I described the movie and compared it to the original franchise.

We got in my Nissan and started the trek home. I had calmed down considerably at the half way point. We were only about ten minutes way from out house, when we reached an intersection. There was the screeching of tires and a loud crash, and then nothing.