She opens her hands and you take a small whiff. You are knocked back against the toilet. Truly, the worst smell of your life. She giggles and claps, and you realize she may be mentally unstable. The idea that you just smelled a stranger's fart is causing you to lose your temper and you want to leave before anything brash happens. As you stand up to push the woman out of your way the tall man enters into the bathroom.
"Looks like you met Claire." He says.
Yeah, hey I think I'm going to head out."
"Well where you goin'."
"Heck, I could take you there." He says, "Especially since you were so kind to Clair." He then leans in and whispers in your ear, "She doesn't have much friends."
The three of you load into his pickup truck and head north. The small cab is packed and a song by The Eagles come out of his radio. You wonder what happened to your mom's car, but the site of roller coasters in the distance distracts you. The man drops you off at the front gate, and you wave goodbye to him and his retarded daughter as they drive off.
You go up the cashier and hand her your Grandmother's social security check.
"What am I supposed to do with that?" She asks.
CONGRATULATIONS YOU MADE IT TO CEDAR POINT.
SORRY YOU COULDN'T MAKE IT INSIDE.
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
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