The smoke emitting from my cheap cigarette dances aimlessly as it ascends further up; I watch until it disappears completely leaving behind no entrails. Tonight was not particularly chilly, sixty-three degrees and mid-December in New York. The streets are busier than ever; nice weather made even the laziest New Yorker go out and walk their own dog.
I worked at a crummy hole in a wall joint, Ricky's, where our usuals consisted of overweight businessmen looking for a good time with the local lady of the evening.
Sonia Gomez, an over-dyed blond with a poorly stitched weave job, sticks her head out of the back door, "Lily!" she screeches with her Latino accent, which in this case sounded like dying cows. I wonder if I hid my distaste for her as amicably as I would have liked. "Meester Josue wants you back right now!" I look back; her yellow head had disappeared. I also noticed while she slammed the door shut its stopper had disappeared within. The back alleyway door to Ricky's locked from the outside and the only way the door opened was from inside. I sigh adding to the list of things I found most annoying about Sonia Gomez: locking me out. She always did this without fail.