Wednesday, 11 January 2012

Fashionably Late by R Thomas Brown.

Bill staggered into the cubicle bullpen and tossed his bag to the floor. He held up a finger to stop the questions of his fellow coders and took a gulp of water before exhaling. “What a crappy commute.”
“What happened? You’re half an hour late and you look terrible.” Doug turned his chair toward Bill. The others mimicked.
“I’m sure you’ll see it on the news, it was bad. Big wreck on the highway.”
Danny shook his head. “How bad? Anyone dead?”
Bill shook his head. “No. Not from the wreck anyway. It was a clothing truck.”
“Clothes?” Doug looked confused.
“Yeah,” Bill leaned forward. “That big warehouse clothes store, what is it, B&M, I think. Truck flipped over, tossed a crap load of suits all over the interstate.”
“That’s crazy.” Danny closed his eyes.
“That’s not the big part though. The clothes were all vintage.”
“Yeah, I guess they’re hoping for a revival of that swing craze or something, I don’t know, but all these old timey suits are just everywhere.”
“Could be worse. At least it wasn’t fuel, right?” Doug punched Danny in the arm. “Remember that truck fire?”
Bill cleared his throat. “That’s not the bad part. See, people start to get out of their cars. Old dudes first. Guess they think the old clothes are like a fountain of youth or something cause they tear out. Canes pounding the pavement, wheelchairs darting in.”
“Yeah, then the younger dudes come in. A bunch of Vince Vaughn wannabes thinking they found Mecca or some shit. They head in. Old dudes on one side, forty somethings on the other. It was a standoff.”
“A standoff? What the hell?”
“It got worse. The Vaughns charge in. I guess they thought with youth on their side, they’d take it. They charge and start grabbing stuff. Some old guy screams to stop and, I don’t know, he’s got like some hotrod power chair. He bolts in there, cane like a lance. Nails a fat dude right in the eye.”
“No way!”
“Yeah, then all the younger guys go in. Looks like they’re winning, but they’re all fat and lazy. Momentum turns, and all I can see are canes going up and down on heads.”
“Then what?” Danny was on the edge of his seat.
“That was messed up. I got out.” Bill sat back and crossed his arms. “I mean, I didn’t want to get caught up in a Zoot Suit Riot.”
A moment of silence. Bill laughed. Danny groaned. Doug got up and punched Bill on the top of his head. “Jerk.”



Good old lads together stuff, Ron. Enjoyed it. Thanks for sending it our way.

And remember, Mike Oxlong!!

S.K.Adams said...

Great story, seamless in fact.
I loved the imagery it created in my minds eye.

Being a mere 46 years young I felt the need to Google 'Zoot Suit Riot'
So I learned a thing or two.

It was a real pleasure to read,

kind regards