Character Flaws

Chapter 1

"Greetings my love, you look as radiant as the sun today." Nugget greeted an older women in a bright pink sweater, clearly a tourist. He leaned forward on the handlebars of his bike as she walked by, staring after her before turning to face me. "She'll be back. They always come back." I snorted in response and looked around for potential customers. It was a warm, sunny day, not at all uncommon for May, and there was a large number of people strolling up and down the cobblestone roads. I watched a group of college-age girls cross the street, giggling and waving apologetically at the cars who had to slam on their breaks to avoid hitting them. Nugget followed my gaze and began singing softly.

"She's a pretty peroxide," He began.

"Long of wind and short of wit." I replied laughing. He flipped his long, dark hair over one shoulder dramatically.

"I don't understand people who get their hair color form a bottle." He mused.

"Your girlfriend has purple hair. You think that's natural?" I asked him.

"Absolutely. People can have purple hair." He said, nodding his head earnestly. I laughed again and shook my head.

"Whatever man, this corner's dead. I'm heading out, you going to be there tonight?" I questioned, pedaling forward to enter the flow of traffic.

"Hey, I missed out last week, Red'll kill me if I don't show tonight."

"You overestimate your importance." I said as I left.

"Y'all wouldn't last long without me and you know it!" He called after me. I coasted down the hill, my cart rattling behind me as I went, and turned onto  the next street I saw. Pedaling to maintain my speed, I kept a look out for bad drivers, a personal worst nightmare. When I reached the square outside the ritziest hotel in town I stopped, hoping it wouldn't be long until some rich prick and his whiny wife decided to do some sight-seeing. Our company had had this area in our domain for a while, and it generated an enormous amount of income from exactly those types of people. I hadn't been waiting ten minutes before a monster of a man approached me, his ruddy face dominated by a heavy scowl and his beefy arms hung by his side. The green-and-navy-striped rugby shirt wasn’t doing his barrel-like torso any favors either. Beads of sweat glittered across his forehead below a thin covering of patchy straw-colored hair. I watched apprehensively as he lumbered closer, my hand darting into my pocket to ensure the blade I carried with me while at work was still there. Reassured by it its cool, metal presence I stared up at him expectantly, waiting for him to draw back his swollen fist. Instead, his mouth opened and a deep, gravely voice poured out.

"How much for a ride?" He rumbled, drawing his wallet from his back pocket. I blinked in surprise and then stared at the man's bulk in dread.

"Depends on how far you want to go." I drawled, settling back into my seat.

"My little girl is allergic to horses." He responded, a statement that I saw little relevance in to our current conversation.

"She wanted a carriage ride." He continued and I understood what he wanted. I would be his daughter's horseless carriage. 

"Can you just ride her around town for half an hour?" He asked.

"It's my job, sir." I said. "And, unlike those mangy animals, I don't carry around my feces." He was not amused by my humor and turned to walk away. I watched him go, cursing myself for losing a client as he ducked into the hotel. However, he was soon back, a girl that looked to be about eight clutched in his arms. He sat her on the bench in my cart and faced me, pulling a hundred-dollar bill from his worn leather wallet.