At Your Service
By J.M. Snyder
Jen drives like she’s looking to hurt someone, but I haven’t decided yet if it’s herself or me she’s trying to kill today. She’s off from work and because her boyfriend Greg isn’t, she called and asked if I’d take her to the movies, though we both paid our own way and she drove.
But sure, why not?
We caught a late matinee, one of those shows that starts a few minutes before six so we only had to pay the cheaper afternoon price. Now we’re cruising down the boulevard, looking for a place to eat, because she’s hungry and she’s got some money left to burn.
I point to Taco Bell. “How about there?”
In all honesty, I don’t care where we eat; I just want her to stop the car. I’m already thinking I’m going to ask if I can drive home, just to make sure we get the
