Wing Mirrors Off of Cadillacs

1. Serendipity

(n.) the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for
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"Agatha, I am gonna get paid, right?" I asked, trying to hide the irritation in my voice. She huffed in response, getting up from her desk chair with the envelope in hand.

"Don't worry Joan, I wasn't going to forget your 'precious' check." Jesus, what a bitch wagon. I also don't understand why she uses the term 'check' when it's actually cash.

"Well, excuse me for saying this but, I don't work here for free," I retorted, rolling my eyes and grabbing the envelope from her hand. I started to head for the door.

"Enjoy your birthday weekend," she said flatly. Only she can make a phrase like that sound like "go to hell."

"See you Monday, Hagatha."

I tore the apron off my 1970s style waitress uniform off and threw it carelessly on the passenger seat as I got into my car. I put the key in the ignition. The radio came on with a blast, nearly making me deaf for a second. I quickly turned it down a bit. I backed out of the parking lot and sped away from that rancid grease trap, headed to Connie's Shop N' Go for a few much needed essentials to spend my minuscule wages on.

...And everything you gave to me
Changed everything I used to be
Much more than anyone I ever knew

Driving down the streets, I started to feel a bit more relaxed. I don't think there is much I enjoy in the world these days but I don't mind cruising around, taking in the typical outskirts LA scenery, seeing people out and about doing whatever the hell they do. Wondering what lives they lead and whether they are happier - angrier than me.

And I don't need a hero
I don't need a soldier
I did when I was younger

But now that I'm older
I don't need a father,
I don't want to be your mother
It's just that anyone of us is half..

Just as I was about to pull into a stall, a black '79 Pontiac firebird sped right in front of me. Thankfully my reflexes were quick or I would've plowed right into the bastard. I honked the horn furiously.

"What the fuck!" I shouted, as if I could be heard within the concealed space of my old rusty cadillac. I saw the car pull into a parking space. I had a mind to waltz over and tell the asshole off but even I know when to pick my battles wisely. I got out of the car and made a beeline for the doors. I just wanted to grab what I needed and get the hell out of there.

"Alright," I said with a sigh. I pulled out a crumpled up piece of paper. "Milk, eggs, fabric softener, strawberries, bread." I wasted no time. Within five minutes I was already in line at the register, standing there impatiently. Two people were ahead of me. 60s pop wafting softly from the speakers perched on a shelf behind the counter.

My eyes were fixed on the floor...until I looked up and took notice of the man standing right in front of me. He was holding nothing but a bottle of laundry detergent. And suddenly I was admiring his hands. Strong and manly yet smooth. My eyes trailed up his arms. Muscular, but not bulky. I was scanning every inch of him and I did not even know why.

He's so fine
(Do-lang-do-lang-do-lang)
Wish he were mine
(Do-lang-do-lang-do-lang)

His back. His strong shoulder blades. My eyes went down to his shapely cheeks. I honestly have never paid any particular attention to a man's ass before but fuck if he didn't have the best one I've ever seen.