Gambling with My Fuckin Life

New Chains, Same Shackles

Des arrived in New Orleans at 3pm on a Tuesday. She had nothing but a duffel bag full of clothes, her 90s style backpack purse, and a cellophane of blues tucked into her dr martens.
The hot, muggy, swampy New Orleans air took her Michigan breath as she stepped out of the bus onto the hot pavement.
She had set up an appointment to look at a small house in the 7th ward at 5 that afternoon.
Des stood under the awning sign waiting for her bus, hand clenched around the strap of her duffel bag.
The people looked different here, more classic, more mysterious. She glanced over at the bench next to her to see a man, slender build, she guessed around 5 ft 8, with short blonde dreads,Tattoos covered his arms, legs and face.
Des quickly looked forward, hoping he didn't see her looking at him. The last thing she needed was to get introduced to some tattooed fuck boy only a half hour after she'd arrived in her restart location.
Des played it cool and minded her business, reaching for a smoke out of her pocket. The cool, stress relieving menthol hit her system like a brick after being on the bus with no nicotine for hours. She almost felt like a 12 year old girl smoking for the first time again, light headed and giddy.
Des yawned. Uh oh. She realized it had been hours since she had reached for the little blue pills in her boot. It would be another hour and a half before she reached the rental and the bus was showing up any moment, no time to run to the bathroom.
The bus station was fairly empty, no one around, and those that were weren't paying attention to her...except for the tattooed man sitting in the bench under the sign. Des started to panic, " fuck fuck fuck! What do I do?" She took one more look around, "man...fuck it".
Des pulled out the cellphone from her boot along with the half straw she kept in the small pocket of her jeans. She popped one of the pills into the straw, chewed it up with her teeth and snorted it..quickly. She had almost forgotten about the man with the dreads. She bent down to put her fix back into her boot and locked eyes with the tattooed stranger. He grinned, exposing his gold teeth and viscously pretty smile.
Des quickly stood straight up and sniffed, turning away from him.
It's not like he gave a fuck anyway, right?
The bus approached and Des quickly boarded. She located an empty seat on an empty row at the back of the bus, hoping he wouldn't sit next to her.
She watched as the stranger lazily walked down the isle of the bus, and took a seat next to her, flashing his gold smile at her again.
Des weakly smiled and sniffed , quickly turning to look ahead as the bus took off.