The Parasite | Eminem

13

Yesterday wasn't very eventful.
My last day in New York was spent reading The Thirst For Annihilation while on a walk.
Turns out, weather? Not so great.
So in my mind, the weather was spectacular.
Sure it rained, but I didn't care much for it.
Eventually I stopped next to a cross walk, deriving a strange sense of delight with each time the cars stopped for pedestrians to go.
Everyone would walk across without me.
The people coming from the other side gave me confused looks.

I caught the eyes of some drivers as they drove past.
They turned their heads to look at me.
I couldn't understand why.
I didn't look all that particularly interesting, but I guess it was a little strange to see.
I just stood there.
Reading.
Looking like I was waiting for the next chance to cross.
Each time I didn't cross, a new set of cars and people would wonder if I hadn't noticed that the light had changed.

Why am I rambling about this?
The point being, you can do whatever the fuck you want.
Even if you feel a little weird, the cars will move on, the drivers will forget about you.

Anyways.
Where am I?
Oh fuck, right.
I'm waiting outside the police station.
I finish my cigarette, flicking it into a puddle on the sidewalk.
Well, time to go hand over four hundred dollars to the law.
Karma doesn't always come in obvious ways.
This is how the universe kicks me in the ass.
I deserve it.
Don't feel bad.

Heading up the steps, inside the building, I feel a strange panic set in.
I know I'm not in trouble but part of me wishes they would see my face and be like, 'hey, you're the girl that shoplifted groceries and gave it to an employee after their shift!'.
I never got caught for that.
I've never been caught.

"Hi, I'm here to uhm, pick up Leah Moore..." I tell the receptionist, I think she's a receptionist.
I don't know.

"Are you Marlow Rosenberg?"

"Yeah."

"Well do you have the bail money? You can't exactly just pick up a prisoner."

"Yeah, obviously. Here's four-hundred in cash." I grumble, rummaging through my khaki pocket for the bills.

I place them on the counter, sliding them through the little rectangle cut out of the plastic divider.

"Thanks. Wait here for a moment."
So I wait.
I stand, hands dug in my pockets.
Next thing, Leah's coming out in handcuffs.
Dressed in a strapless blue top and a skinny black skirt, it couldn't be more Leah.
She had sheer thigh highs on, the sexy ones with the black lace at the tops of them to hide that bit of rubber traction stuff that keeps them up without garters.
Dangerously attractive.
When you're in jail, it's for petty, small crimes, so you're pretty much wearing your own clothes till someone bails you out or you spend your time.

"How are you my darling? You look positively stunning" I ask in a flat tone, submitting to a smirk.

She blushes softly as an officer unlocks her handcuffs.
"I'm ok. Thanks man." She mumbles, rubbing at her wrists softly before crossing her arms over her chest, hugging herself.

Instinctively, I pull my black bomber jacket off, passing it to her.
She gives me a soft smile, taking it and pulling it on.

"Alright, please see to it that this woman doesn't get into any further trouble. Inciting violence in public places is against the law... and just in case you get any ideas, it's illegal in private as well, unless the other party is willing." The cop tells us, looking between us.
I guess I also look like a hazard.
Fair.

"Thank you officer, I'll watch her"
Bullshit.
Absolute, complete bullshit.

We walk out of the building, silently thanking the gods that this was the simple crime we got ourselves caught up in.