Wally mollified. Gas for the hog. Vetteboy unbolted.
I managed to mollify Wally and his team by announcing I was bringing in Ray to work the computer hacking case. Now north on a wet Elliott toward Pier 91, where I’ve a small package to drop off before meeting with a damsel at risk in a mansion on the waterfront in Magnolia, but pull over to gas up the Vespa hog, and what do I see ahead of me but an unattended candy apple red Corvette, gas pump hose sticking out it’s side, Vettebugger in heated conversation with gas station attendant. Machine won’t take Vetteboy’s card. He’s in one helluva hurry. Attendant tells him their system is down, cash only. Vetteboy no cash, now notices me, starts to make a run for it, hops in and pulls away, glances back, gas pump stand leaning toward him, sounds of breaking bolts and plastic ripping, forgot to take the nozzle out, pulling the pump stand off its base. Vetteboy looks out window to take a look, attendant yelling. And now some first classman in a deuce and a half pulls in and blocks the drive, no exit, so Vetteboy tries to hop the island, again the sounds of hounds and ferry horns, looks over his shoulder to see the gas pump shaking on the bolts on the cement stand, the gas hose stretched tight like he’s got a fish on, now the hose coiled around his back wheel. Stops, backs up, gas pump bent, attendant holding his head, nozzle on the ground. Finally, Vetteboy, worked free, takes off like a rice paper butterfly in a cyclone.
is a Novel in Progress
in Serial Format at The Coming of the Toads