"You know what Joe told me?"
No, but with Tami rest assured I'll find out. She likes to quote her old boyfriend; Joe.
"He said that the last time he tried to kill himself, the time after we broke up, he said that he had the strangest flashback."
And how can the normal cliche` flashback be strange?
"He said that as he was tieing the knot for the noose off his closet bar, his life didn't pass by, but instead the past 6 or so day's most important events came to mind."
This would be relevant to me, except Tami has told me about 10 of Joe's failed suicide attempts in the past 4 months.
Or that's what she calls them.
I prefer the title 'desperate plea for attention', but to each their own. "That's nice" I tell her as i dip another french fry into the ketchup that's pooled on the piece of wax paper our fries were served on.
The newly aquirred Nonpoint CD is playing through the headphones attached to Tami's head. It's plastic wrapper in the trash can two tables behind us.
Everytime a security guard walks by, I flinch. Maybe they were finally on to our scam.
Maybe they caught us on tape.
Or maybe they were just nosey bastards.
Either way I'm feeling guilty.
Either way Tami sings along with a song.
"Layla please... doesn't set my mind at ease."
She's had all these songs on her computer for a month since they were leaked onto the net.
Her head nods and a faroff look comes into her eyes. If you watched closely the muscles in her face slowly relaxed and her smile dissapears into the white of her face which looks even more ghastly with the added pale quality of the flourescent lights.
We don't get out enough to have anything resembling a tan.
While she sings I look past her, over her shoulder at the table of three girls and matching guys who all giggle furiously as they listen to Tami, who doesn't notice.
Or doesn't care.
She's fun like that. Those headphones she's borrowing cost me 35 dollars. The discman that plays the CD, 85 dollars, and the best anti skip protection in the store. It took saving my dad's biannual checks for a year to afford them. The price i pay to be oblivious; I bought these so i wouldn't have to hear the people laugh at me.
The table's giggles turn into full on laughter as Tami starts to nod her head to a faster rythm of a new song, I look down at the display of the discman.
Track 1.
42 seconds.
She's already listened to the CD once apparently.
A guard walks by and I flinch, almost knocking over my coke. Tami see's this an raises an eyebrow.
"Tipping back the Robitussin again eh?"
Fuck you Tami, you know I'm clean.
Behind her one of the girls starts to do an impersonation of my companion. Sticking her index finger and pinky up, whilst holding down her middling and ring finger with her thumb, and waving it back and forwarth she head bangs and starts to lip sing to Tami.
I start to wonder if Tami even knows about this.
The girls. The first one, practicing for her future career as an impressionist, is a brunette with her hair pulled back in a perfect pony tail. She's even gone as far as jelling the top of her head so it's flat, smooth, the perfect skin to her head. White pants, new looking, and I'm willing to bet there is some newage 'cool' brand's logo plastered on her right ass cheek. A blue shirt with another logo finishes this ensemble.
All three of these girls are wearing the same outfit, the only variation being the color of the shirt and the color of hair.
Ones blonde with a light blue shirt.
The other is a redhead with a dark blue shirt.
To even further complete this pathetic scene, each of the girls has a leach like male companion straddling them.
All three of these leaches wear the same style blue jeans, with a matching blueish button up, style varying very little. Each of their shirts are left unbuttoned to reveal a white undershirt.
People two blocks down from this mall are protesting cloning. If you ask me, they lost that battle a long time ago.
One of the three boys notices me looking at his date and nudges closer to her and starts to kiss the redhead's neck.
"Just be patient, the best adivice, i did not take. Super steller, first impression, i did not make."
The blonde's companion notices the advances on the readhead and follows suit. Hugging her tighter around the waist and moving his mouth to her neck.
"My own insecurities are not as bad as you make them out to be. And our time is running out so fast."
The third boy sees the other two's actions and decides to try an be part of the group.
Small problem.
Brunnette is still headbanging, strangling the last laughs out of her joke. As the boy moves in, her chin collides with his nose. She turns her head in surprise just in time to see the blood coming racing out of his nose onto those pretty white jeans.
She lets out a screech which draws the attention of everyone else in the food court to them. Already his hands are at his nose, but the blood runs out through the cracks between his fingers.
Small problem.
Apparently this kid doesn't like blood.
Apparently he despise's it.
His eyes widen as he sees the red of the blood. A moment later he lets out a yelp and starts to shake his hands the way a dog shakes himself to get the water out of his fur.
Little flecks of red appear on everyone's face, clothes, and the table infront of them.
"I move this fast and I make my mistakes, for my own sake."
Nothing like a hemophobic to brighten up a rainy day.
You should hear the ensuing sound out of our neighborhood clones.
The boy with the blonde girl stadns up and yells "What the fuck?"
"Sorry man," too late.
The bleeder's right eye catches the fist of the other boy. Instantly chaos breaks out.
Several minutes later, mall security arrives in the form of several uniformed guards. They start to pull the two apart, who have managed to knock their table, push over two little kids, offend a group of grandma's enjoying a junk food binge, and give Tami and me something to laugh about.
As more security guards come, one of them looks over at Tami and me and a look of recognition comes over his eyes.
Tami and I exchange hurried glances and she whispers,
"Time to go."