1. Typical Losers

"Hey, Betty! What'd you find?"

I'm thinking get away, you creep. None of your beeswax. This is my stuff so get away.

"Dude, Betty scored something."

Oh, no. What are these guys doing here? They are not usually out this early. This is not my lucky day.

"That's nothin'. Lookit this!"

Yeah, right. Like Tony looks so cool in a ripped red windbreaker. I wouldn't wear that thing on a bet.

"Neat, huh?" Tony is such a showoff, and loud too, strutting his raggedy self around. Some people just enjoy being stupid is all I can figure. Ugh.

"You look like a crossing guard," says Mike. Everyone laughs, including me. I got to admit, Mike is good at insults.

"Yeah?" Tony doesn't even know he got insulted. I like that about him. At least he isn't always starting fights. Okay, that windbreaker maybe doesn't look so bad. I could wear it on top of the sweaters if the wind comes up. I wonder if he'd make a trade. What have I got in here...

"Ha, ha, there she goes scrabbling through her stuff. Like a chipmunk!"

Ha ha, shutup, Jack. I wonder if Tony would want these slippers. They are way too big for me. Maybe the bowling trophy? Guys like that kind of stuff.

"Hey, Betty! Can't you find a bigger cart?"

And now everybody is laughing at me. I don't need this. I should have listened to that little voice saying 'turn around and go the other way.'

Wait. They're smoking! Who has the smokes? These guys do not usually have cigarettes.

"Want one?" Mike holds out the pack, pretending to be friendly. I think about the tradeoff of taking one, what strings are attached. Uh, uh, uh... Then I cave.

"Okay," I finally say. But they better not be getting any ideas. I don't belong in this bunch.

"Here ya go, shweethaht," Mike passes the pack to me. No bugs jump out. So far, so good. Mike is humming that song from Casablanca. I lift out a cigarette and Gary gives me a light. I sit.

Hmmm hmmm hmmm. Nice breeze, a little sun, good healthy smoke in my lungs. Must be spring. Yeah, springtime. The smoke cloud around us feels all cozy. Copacetic. It's not like I'm never sociable, I'm just choosy. And alert. Always alert to whatever disaster is peeking in.

"I'm heading over to St. Mark's at lunch," coughs Gary.

"Yeah? What they got?"

"I don't know."

"I really like the macaroni and cheese at Methodists."

"Nothing beats Sunday pancakes."

"Man, you're making me hungry!"

Sometimes these guys sound like a food club. It's probably because they got nothing better to do than talk about their next meal. When are they going to leave is what I'm wondering. This is my spot and they are not supposed to be here until much later. I know they'll stay and keep smoking until the pack is gone, so I either gotta sit back and go with their flow, or head out. My first decision of the day.

"I heard the cops rousted Bob and Janette last night," says Jack.

"Yeah?"

"I guess Community Park is not the best place for romance," Mike chuckles, then everybody chuckles. We know about Bob and Janette.

"Shutup!" says Gary out of the blue.

"Shutup?" Mike's eyebrows go up. He slowly gets off the bench.

"Yeah, shutup!!" Gary stomps his cigarette out. You just never know what's going to set them off.

"Well, shutup to you too!!" The old push and shove starts. Tony backs off, Jack joins in. Guy stuff. I slide one more cigarette out of the pack and quickly plan my exit. Tony's cart makes a huge crash as it goes down

"Hey, cut it out!" I'm already across the street.

"Bye, bye, Betty!" somebody yells. I don't even look back.

Sayonara, you mutts.