I Paid For It

"You see this one, right above my eye?" she pointed at a little jagged scar above right her eyebrow, which I could tell she now plucked because little hairs like whiskers were growing in around it.

"Looks like a bad one," I said.

"This asshole from like Tennessee said he wasn't going to pay because the beer tasted like shit or something."

"Wow," I said and turned up the car radio two clicks.

"So, when he tries to walk out, I jumped across the bar and hopped on his back like a spider monkey or something."

"A spider monkey?"

She laughed at her own words. "Yea. He totally hit me in the face, and I was like bleeding on him. I guess he was pretty drunk." She scratched her armpit and she was wearing a sundress so I could see she hadn't shaved her pits in a while. "And we found out later he like didn't have a place to sleep so he camped out in front of the police station and totally got arrested in the middle of the night."

"Asshole," I said.

"I know, right?" She lit a cigarette with her new lighter shaped like a naked woman. "Did I show you my sweet new slippers Jorge bought me?"

"Who's Jorge?"

"Just this guy. Check them out, they're totally blue." She reached into her dirty backpack in the back seat.

"Is this our turn?" I made a left that I knew was not the way to our apartment.

"I think so. Aren't they rad?"

The slippers were blue. They had little skeletons playing guitar stitched over the toes, which I was sure was a Chilean thing she would be happy to tell me all about if just asked. If I just totally asked.

"You can't live with me anymore," I said.

"What are you talking about?" she doused her cigarette in my water bottle. "Don't worry," she ruffled my hair, "Jorge got you some slippers too."