I was halfway through the tea when the girl with the blue
lipstick sat down opposite me. She was neon blonde and bubblegum. The tea
wasn’t great.
“Hey stranger! Mind if I join ya?
It’s awful lonely in here.”
Her smile’s angelic and
collateral. It’s giving me a headache.
“No. Please, be my guest.”
“Thanks dude. Is it cool if my
friend sits here? She’s the hot one by the till. Bet you dream of girls like
her, huh? We’re from America, California, the real deal. We’re doing Europe.
I’d never heard of Wales before this week.”
Did she just say ‘dude’?
Her hot friend was wearing a dumb
smile and a sickening grey hoodie with WEST COAST GURL on it. There was an
envelope in her hand and she was talking to the cashier who was wide eyed. The
beach cafe was silent. The most intelligent conversation I’ve heard all day.
“You’re not much of a talker, are
you dude.”
“No.”
The wide eyed cashier was going
through the till. Hand in, hand out, frown, blink, grin, breathe, frown. The west
coast gurl was still talking slowly. Opposite me, Bubblegum put her hands on
the table as a wolfish grin stalked across her.
I’m facing a moral dilemma: do I
finish my tea and converse or immolate myself like an angry Tibetan?
“Do you want to know a theory I
have.”
The latter, then.
“I’d love to.”
She lifted her hands, folded her
fingers.
“A place like this is easy.
There’s no need to rob a bank and risk getting shot by some asshole guard.
There’s no need to rob a liquor store and risk getting shot by some asshole
cashier. There’s no need to rib a garage and risk getting shot by some asshole
traffic cop. There’s no need to rob a restaurant and risk getting shot by some
asshole whose pancakes are getting cold. No, my friend, a place like this, a
tourist place is the one to do.
Everyone’s distracted, everyone’s got money, everyone’s left their guns
at home, everyone is…” she paused, contorting her hands “so chained to by some
misplaced ideal of happiness, so grimly determined to enjoy their moment of
peace that they would stand and wince and walk away while I do whatever I
like”.
I seem to have misjudged blue
lipstick girl. The cashier is still going through the till.
“Do you know what the best kind
of robbery is?”
The West Coast Gurl is still
talking, faster, looking around.
“No.”
“Picture this: A girl walks in
holding an envelope and tells the cashier that her friend, sat at a nearby
table, talking to some guy, has a handgun in her jeans and if all the money
isn’t put in the envelope, the walls are getting repainted a startling shade
called essence of brain.”
Her friend picked up the envelope
and walked out. Bubblegum put some coins on the table and got up to follow.
“Get yourself some more tea. You
look like you need it.”
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