night and day [h.s]

eight

Maybe he shouldn't have done that.

He pursed his lips at customer number 17 who ordered a dozen bagels with all cream cheese. Why do New Yorkers like cream cheese on their bagel? It was disgusting and if you left it out, often it'd stink up an entire room. 

"You got that?"

Harry blinked. The guy was smiling like life was happy and there were things to actually look forward to. He hated this guy.

Harry punched in the numbers in the cash register and nodded. "Yea, that's gonna be $30."

The guy fished out two twenties and placed it in Harry's outstretched hand.

"Dozen plain cream cheese!" Harry announced.

"No, no, no, I wanted 6 whole wheat, 2 plain and 4 assorted seeds."

"You didn't say that."

"Yes I did, kid. Were you listening?"

To be honest, probably not. "6 whole wheat, 2 plain and 4 assorted with cream cheese!"

The guy stared at him while he rang up an entirely new price. "That's gonna be – "

"And my plain?"

"What?"

"My plain bagels? Did you get my plain bagels too?"

He glanced behind him at Angie who was preparing the bagels anyway. He could think she wasn't paying attention to the conversation but that would be naïve to think. She was like a hawk, keen and sharp on everything, including her nose. "Yea, your two plain bagels."

"No, I ordered 14 plain bagels total."

He was tripping out of his mind right now; when did he say that? "Um..." Angie held one hand on her hip and stared Harry down. The walls were closing in and he was surrounded. He couldn't escape through the back and the customer was holding him hostage behind the counter. He was trapped and there was no way out. He felt the breath come through his lungs and back out into the air.

Angie pushed him aside without a glance muttering, "I'll handle it."

"Fuck!" he roared.

He was at sea and the boat was tipping side to side. The waves were licking the sides of his boat trying to suck him and his ship down. It was working so far. He felt like he was going to drown tonight. With the rain pouring down on him and his ship rocking side to side, he felt he was going to die.

Harry kicked the door to the staircase but was quick to regret it when a sharp pain shot through his toe instead of relief from venting his anger. The rest of the stairs he hopped on one foot upwards. His floor was harder to get to than he expected on one foot. He was drunk though so what did he expect. He pushed through the door and fell onto the dingy grey carpet. Harry inhaled the alcohol - from his breath? Or the carpet? who knows – when he laughed.

It was some odd hour and he didn't even know where his key was to get into his apartment. God, he was fucked up. Harry laughed though. This was how it was going to be he guessed. Using the last of his fucking money for alcohol was a great idea. He wondered what came next? Being evicted maybe? Maybe he'd be forced to move back in with his mom? Nah he'd never get that desperate.

Harry rolled onto his back laughing and laughing. Put him in an institution, he'd get free food and a bed to sleep on there. Maybe he could act crazy for a few months and they'd admit him. He'd never have to worry about taxes again or calling his mom. They could make up the excuse he's too deranged to talk right now, leave a message please!