You Bought Yourself Your Dream

something short

You Bought Yourself Your Dream

I don’t remember where but I think I heard that all you need is a good pair of shoes and a nice watch, the rest just sort of falls into place. I would see him everyday in and out of the deli. Never knew his order but I could probably guess with a gun to my head. Turkey and cheese on a kaiser roll. Mayo. No. Honey mustard. No. Both. Banana peppers. Pickle. Tried and true everyday without fail. He would rotate the chips. And that fucking watch. God damn, that motherfucker shined. Silver and gold. Black face. Beads of rice tightly wrapped around his fat fucking wrist. I don’t know what would make someone look good in something, but it was pretty obvious to me that this asshole didn't look good in that watch or that watch didn't look so good on his hairy ass. Whatever. Fuck him.

Watching this asshole in and out of the deli everyday was a real pain in the dick. His face, man. His hairy fucking neck. I figured it was a Rolex, being that was what this type of asshole would wear. I heard that somewhere. I knew there were better watches, I think, more expensive ones, but this dude was working in Conshy so what else could he possibly know. I heard that somewhere but I'm not sure where.

My window looked out across Fayette and right into the swinging frosted glass door of the deli. I could just walk over all normal and order myself a sandwich, wait for him to pay then follow him out the door. I could grab his head by the back of his ugly fat fucking rolled hairy neck and slam it through the frosted glass, just leaving it to hang there while I undid the clasp on his watch and slowly sized it up as the deli munchers stood there in disbelief.

I would probably need to figure out how to get it to fit my wrist, but I don’t think that would be a problem. For days there would still be a hole in the door after they pulled him out. Garbage bag duct taped. Dead. No doubt. Jugular cut. Something like that. Sandwiches and chips on the floor covered in glass and clumps of blood, a real crime scene man. 

Yeah that's what I’ll do. Just slam this motherfucker's head through the door. Grab the watch then book it out West. I heard somewhere that all you need is a pair of nice shoes and a watch, and you can make it anywhere. Especially out West. Ride and rope some broncos. Yeah man.

I woke up in a cold sweat. Three AM, so tired that I was wide awake. No more swishing traffic to put me back to sleep. Soon the black would become blue. The radiators hadn’t been bled in who the fuck knows how long, a slow leak of heat wasn’t enough to take off the bite. With my eyes closed I could still see the room clear as day. Lids paper thin. As I rolled over and went to wipe the night shit out of my eyes, a gold and silver Rolex sat loosely on my wrist.