Tony spotted her coming from the kitchen. Her apron was gone. He knew she was going to catch him before he reached the cashier, but there was nothing he could do about it. She was a cute thing, trim, soft brown eyes, blonde. He knew the question before she asked it. Call it intuition, call it anything you like, but knowing the question didn’t help with the answer.
“What’s your name?” she asked, grasping his shirt sleeve as he passed though area two.
“Steve. My name is Steve.”
“I’m Patty,” she said, and then after a brief pause she blurted, “Can I go to California with you?”
“Hey lady – err Patty – I’m on a motorcycle, an old hard tail. You’d be sorry you ever asked before we even got out-of-town,” Tony said, casting a look at the cashier. But the cashier only smiled.
“Oh I’m familiar with hard tails. I need to be in California.”
The first thing he knew she was ushering him to a booth where she continued to nag until she wore him down.
“Okay, get your stuff.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “I really didn’t want to go,” she added, waving the cashier over to the booth.
“You owe me twenty, Bertha.”
“What’s going on here, Tony asked.
“I just lost. Sally bet me twenty dollars she could get a free ride to California within ten minutes.