'Twenty Euro Story' by A Flanagan
I raise the phone to my ear, mouth something into it until the car has passed. It's dark again. I settle back into the seat, try to concentrate. This place is too open. This is a bad idea. I stare ahead, can't relax. Fuck! She gets back up, fixes her hair. Her lipstick is smeared over her mouth, “What's wrong baby?” Is she concerned? I remind myself to clean my dick with a baby wipe before I go home. “Just had a long day, you head off and I'll call you tomorrow”. Her face spells pity, “Maybe the cinema next time yeah?” She waits for an answer. “Maybe”. Accepting this she gives me a peck and gets out. I drive off leaving her standing there, shuffling in her handbag. I'm not ready to go home yet, so I drive around, looking. Where are you? There's one. I drive past her, have a good look, no point in wasting time on an ugly cow. She's all-right, looks young. I turn about and drive up slowly. She looks skinny under the jacket, nice legs. “Eh, how'ya?” My accent is gone to fuck living here. She looks about before bending over to talk, “Ar we goin' te talk abou de wedder or will I geh in?” This town is full of smart arses. I'm getting second thoughts, do I need this grief? Another look at her face and after a nod she gets into the car. We're driving around, I'm trying to think of something interesting to say, “Are ya out long?” She looks at me under her fringe, must think I'm a gobshite. I flush red, keep looking ahead. I brave another question, “Where'd you want to go?” She looks out the window, “Drive inte tha carpark dere”. I pull in and turn off the engine. “Geh outta dare”, she swipes at my hand, “Ye haven't paid for dah yeh”. My face turns red, cheeky bitch. I pretend to look ahead but catch her legs again. Her skirt has ridden up, there's a hole in her cheap tights. “Ye'll have to pay for tha, 50 euro”. I throw a twenty on the dash. She swipes it quickly and pulls a face, her top lip stretches up to meet her nose. I undo my belt and pull down my jeans, she takes the hint. She's down there and I'm thinking about Sarah, thinking about how I should remember this place for next time. I'm almost there but here, what's that? There's a shadow in the wing-mirror. She's set me up. I pull her hair, “Get the fuck off me”. There's a knock on my window, now I'm thinking these are very polite thieves. I panic, who the fuck is out there? “Sir, open your door and step out of the car”. A country accent, a flash of blue in the side-mirror, and it's a woman...fuck!