Big Is the Word

I've always got big plans. I'm always looking for the big score. Big is the word.

Like this time down on Fifth, a guy wants to know where the library is. Shriveled old fart. I'm thinking he really wants this information, and I've got it. But it'll cost him, right? Because nothing in life is free. Old bastard should know that by now.

“Yeah, I know the place,” I say and he's staring at me with his mouth open like an idiot. We're like maybe three blocks away, but he might as well be on the moon for all he knows. “Twenty bucks.”

“I don't understand,” he says.

No shit. I figured that out when I first laid eyes on him. So he just keeps standing there and it looks like rain might come, which could drive the price even higher. Don't delay, old man, act now!

“Twenty bucks,” I repeat, unflinching. Hell if I'm gonna give ground to this guy.

“How far is that in miles?” he asks. I don't know whether to laugh or just smack him across the face with the back of my hand. Maybe both.

“It ain't miles, man, it's cash.”

I've got one eye on him, one on the clouds above, see which'll break first.

He pats himself down, probably the most action he's had in years. “Dammit,” he says, “I left my wallet at home.”

“I guess you're not finding the library.”

“Doesn't matter now, I don't have my card.”

Well, that's a fine piece of leverage he's laid on me right there. Now I'm the one standing like an idiot, no counter at the ready.

I feel a drop. Time to head inside. I don't come away with cash, but it's the principle, man.