Parking Lot Loser


When we left the Caribou concert we left hand in hand and walked through the parking lot towards my car. On the way my date ran into someone she knew. Luckily, so that I didn’t have to stand behind her sheepishly like a little jerk, I recognized someone in that circle of people – the waitress at Red Star I had spoken to last week.

“Hi.” I said.

“Oh hi! This guy is famous and has a really cool store,” she told the guy she was standing next to. When we spoke briefly last week, while I was with Sam and Courtney, she had brought up that photo shoot I was part of – the front page of Vue Weekly.

The guy pretended to care. The kind of caring you do when you want to impress a girl you’ve just met and don’t want to appear threatened by the guy who has a really cool store , “Is that right? What’s the store?”

“It’s called Local Gifts.” I said.

“Miracle Gifts?” He misheard or pretended to.

“Yeah. It’s called Miracle Gifts you idiot.” I laughed in his face and then walked off with my hot date on my arm. “Let’s go babe.” I said.

That poor waitress. What a shitty night she must be having.

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