The Floor Show was finished at Five and we were in his car
by Six. The parking garage attendant charged us nine dollars. Ira paid in cash.
He had to do his own navigating because I was in charge of inventory. It had
been too chaotic during the day to keep track of much, which made me itchy.
Ira looked back at me. I have no idea where I am going, he
says. Could I wait until we got back to our apartment to count? What did it
matter if we got lost, we’d have to stop for Ira to piss in ten minutes. That’s
what happens when you drink six Mountain Dews to keep moving. And you have to
keep vigil while sweaty teenagers and former teenagers paw over your
handcrafted figurines.
Ira thinks we shouldn’t stop, but I don’t think that’s
possible for him. It’s not safe, he says. We came in with a pile of these
things, but after they sold like this they are suddenly valuable.
