Classy is as Classy Does

It was too hot to think, it was too hot to breathe, it was too hot to do anything but stare into the middle distance at the little heat lines rising off the pavement like the ghosts of a million earthworms cooked by the sun. It wasn’t meant to be like this. She had expected a grand adventure, not an extended layover in Nowheresville, Nevada. She supposed that’s what she got for not thinking the plan through. Oh why did she never think these things through?

Just then she heard a voice echoing across the dirt lot; it was Manny, calling for her. Her break was over, time to get back to work. Ugh, as hot as it was outside today, it was even worse in that cramped little kitchen. Resigned to her fate she melted off the wooden bench of the swing that somebody had hung under the only shade tree for miles, and began the slow shuffle across the gravel to the Rusty Kitchen Café. The restaurant’s real name was Rustic Kitchen Café, but rusty was more appropriate for so many unsavory reasons. She chuckled to herself, pleased with her little play on words; she must be getting delirious from the heat.

Manny appeared in the doorway of the restaurant again, he was getting impatient. He opened his mouth to yell, but his words were drowned out by another, louder roar. She turned just in time to jump out of the way of an apple red streak of overcompensation, a shiny convertible sports car that had suddenly flown around the bend in the road and into the parking lot. It skidded to a stop at her feet.

“What the hell!” she threw her hands up in shock.

The car just sat there, motionless, the engine still whining from its race through the desert.

“Hey,” she tried again, louder, yelling at her own reflection in the black tinted window “you almost ran me over.”

With a click the driver’s door unlatched and a well-dressed man slithered out of the cool leather interior like a desert 'rattler.

“Well hello” his voice was melted tar oozing across the dusty asphalt.

“Hi Brad,” She rolled her eyes.

“My princess, I am here to rescue you.”

“Ugh, I don’t need to be rescued!”

He just stood there, the sweat starting to bead across his perfect brow.

“Leave! NOW! And tell Daddy to stop sending all you men here! I am perfectly capable of getting myself out of this!”

As he closed the car door against her venom she hocked a glob of spit which landed with a satisfying thuck on the shiny red paint. She smirked as the engine revved and the car sped off down the highway. Through the dissipating dust cloud left behind by her suitor’s hasty retreat she saw Manny’s silhouette in the restaurant doorway, giving her a thumbs up. She smiled to herself because for the first time she was sure, she really could do this on her own.