āThe fuck are you laughing at?ā
My head snaps back in Sā direction, as if a glare alone will pull him out of this atrocious break.Ā
Yeah, man, why donāt you share with the class? What is it thatās so amusing? What is so fucking funny? Tell us, ācause Iām having a hard time locating humor in the middle of my sale being ruined. It damn well isnāt me. Better not be me, you drunken buffoon.Ā
I thought you understood.Ā
The total fold in his expression suggests that the lack was only a momentary lapse. Sā eyes become wide and all attentive, darting frantically between me and this guy in search of a way to simmer us down and salvage our saleā¦
It doesnāt surprise me how soon he finds it, Iām sure heās seen it so often that itās easy to adapt and morph into his role. His smile isnāt as wild and frenzied as mine, its tethered tense in an even more unsettling way as moves his jaw and he gnashes his teethāthat same little motion that theyāre so numb and twitchy to be able to do. Itās too accurate.Ā
Good Godā¦your eyes look so weird like that.Ā
S repeats their favorite lie to him too: nothing. Thatās what it always isā¦nothing can ever be wrong, if, by their delusional definition, nothing is happening. This time itās actually not too much of a stretch from the truth, since nothing sinister is, anyway. We arenāt here to settle the score, weāre trying to get him to score and, in that, we are brewing something. Something heāll like...
Just let yourself buy it.
















