Gary from next door got a new car, a real midlife crisis-mobile. This lengthy hotrod red number. Even my wife drooled. Goddamned eyesore, I thought. Lower middle-class house in a lower middle-class suburban neighbourhood, and then there’s this fucking million dollar sports car convertible in a cracked driveway. It was incongruous is what it was.
We never had a lot of problems with thieves in this part of town, so there wasn’t much to worry about. Even still, Gary had a big garage. There was no reason to keep the car in the driveway except to flash it around. Made my Ford look like shit.
Coming home from work one day I took a glance inside the window. Leather seats, a better computer on the dashboard than I had in my house… And a couple bucks worth of change sitting in one of the cupholders. I wondered.
In the morning, I woke up to Gary’s outraged scream. I threw on a housecoat and went outside in a hurry, my wife close behind.
Gary was frantically checking the inside of his car, his legs sticking out the doors.
“What’s up, Gary?” I asked.
“Some sonofabitch smashed my window!” came Gary’s voice from inside the car. “Goddamn! This is a brand new car!”
As though we didn’t know that. “Well it’s not stolen at least,” I said. “Missing anything?”
“Bit of change,” Gary muttered as he slid back out of the car. “Damn, this car cost me a fortune, Dave, and some sonofabitch just smashed it for a couple a bucks. Goddamn…”
“Some real bastards around here,” I said. “Might be best to keep her in the garage, you figure?”
“Never woulda thought this kinda thing would happen here…”
“Better safe than sorry.”
“Geez, you might be right.”
That’s right, asshole. Put your dick back in your pants.
“Dave,” said my wife, grabbing my swollen hand, “what happened to your hand?”
Gary looked at it, then at me.
Day 359’s three random writing prompt categories were, “Cups and coins,” “A brand new car!” and, “Overcompensation.”
Six more days, y’all.