Beatriz and Édrien enter the twenty-four hour convenience store, giggling slightly at something. The guy at the register stares them down, watching their hips sway as they disappear behind an aisle.
"Homeboy is checkin' you out," Édrien whispers to Beatriz, motioning in the direction of the register.
Beatriz giggles and smiles, "I bet he's a curious little boy."
"Let's not be too hard on the kid." She stops to think for a moment, her face lighting up when she has an idea. "You distract him, I'll get us some goodies."
"Will do, boss-lady." She smiles and begins walking up to the counter.
The clerk acts like he's reading the magazine sprawled across the counter, but keeps his eyes low as he peers at Beatriz's skirt as it sways across her thighs. She stands a small distance from the counter and the clerks looks up from "reading".
Édrien checks out the store's wonderful selection of candy bars, potato chips, and soda. "Mmm, Twix," she mumbles to herself, dropping various items into her purse. She peeks back at Beatriz, leaning against the door of a cooler.
“Hello.” She says, demure.
“Hello.”
She leans over the counter to read his name tag, allowing him a peek at her cleavage. She starts straightening up after a few seconds.
“Ken, that’s a nice name.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
Édrien smiles, cracking open a cold Coke. She takes a large swig, watching Beatriz work her magic. All she needs is some popcorn.
“My name is Ursula and I was just wondering if…”
“Nice to meet you, Ursula.”
“Oh, nice to meet you, Ken, I was just wondering if you have any Cicero cigarettes and a bottle of Four Roses.”
“Lemme check.”
“Sure.”
The clerk turns his back, Beatriz deftly sneaks a few candy bars into her waist band.
Édrien tries to contain her joy, walking up to the counter covering her mouth.
"Nice," she tells Beatriz. She sits her can on the counter for the clerk to see. "You don't mind if I have this, do you?" she asks, twirling her hair and smiling. She doesn't wait for an answer. "Thanks." She struts to the door, stopping and waiting for Beatriz.
Beatriz makes her purchases and follows behind Édrien, stifling a giggle. Édrien makes her way into the car, unloading the snacks onto the dashboard. Beatriz takes her seat at the wheel, slides the candy out from her skirt and puts it into the pile, and starts the car, slowly peeling into traffic.
“He seemed really nice.”
"Yeah." Édrien puts on her iPod, getting comfortable in the passenger's seat. "Where are we headed now?" She pulls one of the earphones out to hear Beatriz's answer.
“Hmm,” she shrugs, “I dunno. Let’s find some trouble.”
They enjoy their goods, munching and mocking people in other cars. "You done with that?" Édrien motions to an empty wrapper.
"Yep."
Édrien grabs all the trash in one big swipe, balling it up and tossing out of the window. It floats on the air for a while, some flying onto the windshields or being spun by the tires of cars. Édrien watches in the rearview mirror, "Ugh, I really hate to litter like that."
“Yeah, you’re terrible.”
"I'll get over it." She is quiet for a moment, gazing at the businesses they pass.
"Ooh, stop here." Édrien points to a fast food restaurant.
“All right.” Beatriz pulls into the parking lot. “Drive-thru or are we stopping?”
"Eh, whatever you wanna do."
"Let's drive-thru."
"Ok." Édrien stuffs her iPod into her purse and sits it on the floor. Unhooks her seatbelt, propping up to see the menu.
"I'll take a cheeseburger. No onions. I'll kill them if they put onions on it...and uh, a vanilla shake. Yeah, that sounds good."
“All right…I think I want…hmmm, fries and a Coke, yeah.”
Beatriz rolls up to the order box and places their orders.
“That’ll be six seventy-nine, drive around, thank you.”, the warped and muffle voice barks.
They creep up to the window and receive their order, paying then driving off. Beatriz passes the bag to Édrien and sips her Coke.
"Hold up," Édrien draws the edges of the hamburger buns back and shows Beatriz the mountain of onions. "Motherfucker."
“I said, ‘No onions?’, right?”
"Yes, you did. Let's pay them a little visit."
“Gotcha.”
Beatriz executes a sharp U-Turn and parks parallel to the entrance. She follows Édrien as she storms up to the counter, bag in hand, shoving pass people.
Édrien pulls out the burger, naked without it's wrapper. "Didn't she say, "No onions", bitch?" she tosses the burger into the woman's face. Onions, lettuce, and pickles splatter onto the corner gleefully, bouncing and settling beneath the gasps of the woman and other patrons.
The woman brushes a piece of lettuce off of her face and speaks, "Well, we could've certainly made you another one. You didn't have to do that?" She motions to the canvas of fallen condiments.
“You could’ve gotten it right the first time, but you didn’t do that.”
"Everyone makes mistakes. My manager won't appreciate this," the woman says and begins to walk away.
"Consider it a mistake when we smear ketchup and mustard up and down these walls."
Beatriz takes a thimble of someone’s ketchup off their tray and flings it behind the counter.
“Whoops! Look what happen by accident! My mistake!”
Édrien blatantly drops a bun onto the floor, smashes her foot down on it and slides it a few feet across the floor. "Oh my! My mistake!"
She holds the drink buttons down on the machines, allowing the sodas to dispense and overflow. "Come on, Beatriz. Let's go."
"Yeah, before we make MORE MISTAKES!", she shouts at the people behind the counter.
They walk out, laughing uncontrollably. They figure the manager will be running out in a second and they don't want the hassle. They enter the car and speed off into traffic.
"They probably think we're PMSing or something."
"They'd hate to see us when we are." Édrien fidgets with her seat. She finally gets it to recline and she closes her eyes. "I'm stressed. Where can we go to relieve stress?"
“I dunno…you wanna strip?”
Édrien sits up. "Sure, strip club. Sounds like a plan."
Beatriz giggles. "Cool."
They roll up to The Blonde Iguana, dazzling, lit up like Christmas. They find a decent parking space and exit the car, Édrien fixing her make up in the side mirror. She looks to Beatriz, "Good?"
“Yeah, great.”
The Blonde Iguana is lit a murky red tonight and smells robustly of stale tobacco and cheap liquor, provides a seedily cheap ambiance that is usually understood with strip clubs. Beatriz lights a cigarette and drags as she and Édrien observe the men go wild over the “dancers” on stage.
Édrien is disgusted, but intrigued by the amble bust of one particular “dancer”, Barbarella. She's fake, silicon there, collagen here, but Édrien can't take her eyes off of her. The way her breast don't sink as she lies on her back on the sparkling stage. The way her behind doesn't lose it's shape, when she does her splits. This girl is a mold, unable to change. Stuck. Permanent.
"It's sad, really." Édrien says. "These bitches can't dance."
"Look at that one,” Beatriz gestures and exhales. “With a mouth like that, she's born to suck."
They observe like flies on the wall for minutes.
“Fuck this shit, man.” Beatriz puts her cigarette out in someone’s drink as it passes on a tray carried by the barmaid and hops up on the bar, dancing, her skirt swishes around her thighs, panties showing.
Édrien follows suit, jumps up on stage and pushes a dancer out of the spotlight and swings around on the pole and kicks at the guys trying to reach out to her.
A lot of people recognize Beatriz and ask for her autograph so she sits on the bar and signs some napkins.
Édrien drags her away from her fans when the bar gets too excited and they laugh their way to the car.
