It was hard to get into that jeep wearing a dress and still consider myself a lady. The curly hair humidity was common in North Carolina but the air this night was sweating, so I took my chances on the sundress for a casual, get-out-of-the-house hang out with friends.
A few other cars followed the red jeep for a quick stop at Exxon. We needed some provisions. What we got something else. Everyone went into the store but me and Jason. I was too young for a fake ID so I stayed in the car. Jason went the bathroom. The doors were on the back of the building where we parked to hide my age. He was only in there a second before opening the door and waving me over. I jumped down from my seat. “I need someone else to see this,” he said seriously. He paused with his hand on the door. I think he changed his mind about waving me over, but he opened the door anyways. The room was painted with vomit, blood, and excrement. A wallet was in arms reach and it was full. A bag of what was probably marijuana leaned against the wall next to the toilet.
I haven’t thought about this story in years. I might be making the whole thing up. Except the blood and feces. Yeah, I definitely remember bodily fluids and wet, summer air.