Beach Day

"Charlie you listen to me, I got food stamps, I'll get you dinner, but you sit yourself down and wait for me."

The woman across from me yelled into her Motorola. She was wearing a dark colored uniform, but I couldn't tell if it was black or navy blue. On her lamp was a bag filled with papers. Her skin was dark and sagged at the corners of her lips. On her feet were black shoes, black faded high socks. Her hair was frizzy from the humid air, although the A/C inside the vehicle pumped cool air onto the back of my neck. I could feel my throat getting sore already. I put my hood up.

"Naw naw, I ain't eat yet, I'll eat witchu." The woman pulled out a tiny bottle of whiskey from her bag, like the tiny bottles you find in hotel room mini-fridges. She chugged the whole thing and hung up the phone. She lifted the bag off her lap to reveal a hardcover book underneath. She placed the bag beside her and began to read from the book aloud. She paused after two or three sentences.

"Oh man," she turned to the woman sitting next to her. "Ma'am did you know this? You know the Warner Brothers Entertainment was founded in 1918?" The other woman shook her head slightly and avoided eye contact. The woman reading took out another bottle of whiskey and chugged that as well. I pulled on a yellow string behind me.

"Honey where you off to?" The drunk woman asked me.

"Work," I answered. The bus screeched to a stop in front of a Pollo Tropical. I got up.

"Mhmm," she mumbled, and kept on reading. I got off the bus and called Mom. Of course, she didn't answer. I walked around the bus stop and headed for the restaurant when I heard mumbling behind me.

Turning around, I saw the drunk woman climb out of the bus and fall into the bus stop bench. I watched her as she pulled out a phone and started yelling again. Clenched in her left hand was the book, and strapped around her shoulder was the open bag full of papers, a pile of four or five sheets littered the floor beneath her. Slowly she laid down across the full length of the bench. More papers fell out and her book crashed onto the cement. She hung up the phone. As I wondered whether she'd be there when I ended my night shift, I turned back around and headed for work.