Playful

Playful

It was one of those hot summer days. The ones that start off warm with a bit of a breeze that can chill the skin even though the sun’s out. The one that turns into a soul sucking heat wave by twelve o’clock, that soaked your personality and your well-being. The one that left behind a shell of your former self – the once playful presence to a sweaty angry person that no one wants to be around. The destructor of energy and oxygen; those hot summer days.

Sitting in a Volkswagon with the sun’s rays beating down on it creating a vacuum of heat bothered me to no end. My body was littered with sweat to the point I had to wipe it from my eyes. I looked in the small compact mirror only to see a disheveled individual with frizzy black hair sticking all over the place and mascara running down my face as if I’ve been crying. I closed it quickly. Not wanting another look at myself and the dire situation forming on my face. To be honest, I didn’t want to bother with it all. I didn’t have it in me to scour my purse looking for a napkin. I didn’t want to bother fixing my makeup so I’d look at least somewhat decent.

I looked back at the gas station. Ronald’s attention was still on the young blonde girl who was trying to buy some snacks. They both leaned their head back in laughter. Ronald’s hand was touching the girl’s arm. It was nauseating to see. See, the hot sun was affecting me, infecting me with anger and annoyance. Why was he taking so long? Why isn’t he moving fast enough? How long does it take to pay for gas? Minutes went by. He went in at twelve and now it was twelve-twenty. I hopped in the driver’s side of the Volkswagen and blared the horn, startling not only the two individuals deeply immersed in courtship but also the gas attendant and the other poor sweaty customers pumping gas.

I waved at him. I couldn’t help but laugh as his face turned from a smiling, bubbly fool trying to hook up to a deeply pissed off guy who just lost his opportunity. He went back to the attendant and paid for the gas before bolting out the door. He approached the driver’s side. He leaned his arms and body in the driver’s window, his frustration and annoyance still etched on his face and a smile still etched across mine’s.

“Move over.” He commanded. I only shook my head before rolling the window up, his body leaned back from the process. He raised his hands up before walking around to the passenger’s side. He tried opening the door only to find it conveniently and accidently locked. I started up the car, it’s engine blocking out Ronald’s erratic voice and the curse words that was pouring out of him.

I didn’t even glance at him as I drove out of the gas station toward the highway, knowing what the end result would be once I turned around to pick him back up. I was ready for it. I was ready for the constant streams of curse words and insulting comments about both my looks and life choices. It would all be worth it in the end. I laughed a little out loud before entering the highway.

 

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