Salad, Sandwiches, Dainties and Punch

Chapter 27

Janice lurched toward the gas tanks with her hands on top of the steering wheel.  It had been ... a while since Janice had driven anything bigger than her scooter, but it was like riding a bike right?  Janice ignored the fact that she never really mastered riding bikes.  "Gimme some money and I'll go pay," Randy held out his palm.  Janice happily forked over some cash.  She was relieved she wouldn't have to get out of the car and Randy wanted the gas attendant to think he was paying so it worked for both of them. 

Randy took a quick stock of the bills in his hand.  Three twenty dollar bills and his eyes got wide with nicotine dreams.  "Put forty in the tank my good man," he whistled as he left the teenage gas jockey to partially fill the tank.  Behind the till the cashier was restocking the scratchers.  He leaned up against the counter.  "I got the gas on pump two," he said to get his attention.  "Forty bucks?"

"Yep," Randy gestures toward the rows of cigarettes behind him and the cashier pulled a pack off the shelf placing it on the counter.  "That'll be," the cashier punched it into his register, "$37.48."  "Oh well," Randy pulled out his three twenties, "might as well throw two $1 scratchers in there."  The cashier pulled out the mat of shiny scratch tickets.  "Gotta spend money to make money," Randy said as he collected his few cents in change.  He tucked the scratchers and smokes away.  The last thing he wanted to do was to split anything with Janice. 

One turn later they were on the highway.  The driving conditions were perfect, they had half a tank of gas and the radio signal was crisp.  Randy couldn't understand why Janice was driving so slow but hey he had nowhere better to be and it'd been a dogs age since he'd been into the city.  "Where we going anyway," he asked suddenly concerned that he hadn't even inquired.  "My cat needs medicine.  For her kidneys," knuckles white on the wheel. 

She wasn't too keen on chatting at the moment.  Even on a straight away she was drifting from centre line to white line like that pong game.  They met a truck and she had slowed down to almost a crawl.  Randy was going on and on about how they'd have to eat and Janice just nodded not taking her eyes off the road.  Had driving always been so stressful. 

They finally hit the city limit sign and Janice breathed a sigh of relief.  "We eating first?" Randy had been talking about food for the last twenty minutes and Janice had to admit she was hungry too.  Blackbeard's was on the way to the vet office anyway.  They had big portions and homemade fries and most importantly non stop pop refills.

She parked the long bodied car in the parking lot and they made their way in.  Randy greeted every table.  Janice was skeptical that he knew half of them.  She on the other hand barely acknowledging the people she did know.  The hostess handed them their plastic coated menus as they sat down at their table, but it was unnecessary, she already knew what she wanted. 

Randy pursued the menu like a kid in a candy store.  She listened to him drone on as he basically read the menu to her: club house, fish and chips, quesadilla, and on and on.  He flirted with their waitress a little too much when she came to get the order and she rolled her eyes.  What're you getting?" "Reuben, home fries, Pepsi," she said confidently as she handed back her menu.

Lunch did not disappoint and Janice was feeling much more at ease as she slid into the driver's seat.  Randy was picking at his teeth with one elbow out the open window.  She took a half glance back before reversing out of her spot.  Crunch.  The sound and the impact sent her to go bow with home fries and half a reuben flying into Randy's lap.  "Shit," she said pulling forward, "some idiot hit me."