That Girl on the Corner with the Sign

            Wanda grabbed a handful of greasy fries from the brown paper bag and shoved them into her mouth. She took a sip from a bucket of diet soda. She lit a menthol cigarette. She took a long drag. She ashed the butt into an empty cardboard box that had previously housed a double cheeseburger with bacon. She raised the bucket for another sip. The car in front of her came to a sudden stop. She slammed on her breaks. She lost control of the bucket. Diet soda went everywhere.

            She sat at the red light. She waited. The cars moved. Then they stopped again. She noticed a girl standing on the corner. The girl was dressed in clothes that were fashionable decades ago. The left side of her head was shaved. Her skin was covered in tattoos. She held a cardboard sign. The sign was covered in black marker. It read:

Homeless and

Pregnant

Anything Help$

God Bless

           

Wanda eyed the girl up and down. She noticed her filthy bare feet. She noticed rips in her jeans. She noticed a bump in her belly. Poor thing she thought must be three months pregnant. Wanda searched through her purse. She found the last two dollars to her name.

The light turned green. The cars moved. Wanda stopped at the corner. Her 1993 Toyota Camry held up the traffic behind it. Wanda rolled down her window. She held out the money. “Here you are sweet thing.”

“God bless you.” The girl took the two dollars. She watched the Camry drive through the intersection. She watched the cars behind it get caught at the red light.

The girl turned her back to the cars. She pulled a wad of money out of her bra. She added the two dollars. She counted the wad. She smiled. Her daily quota had been met.

She dashed across the intersection. She unlocked her fixed-geared bicycle from a STOP sign. She pedaled through downtown. She crossed the Hawthorne Bridge. She followed a bike boulevard to Division Street. She pulled up to a house in a very trendy neighborhood. She carried her bike inside.

Her roommates sat on the couch. They were dressed much like her. They drank tall cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon. They smoked American Spirit cigarettes. They smoked marijuana out of elaborate glass pipes. The girl threw her cardboard sign on the coffee table. It covered another cardboard sign that read:

Homeless

Veteran

Anything Helps

God Bless

420

“How much did you get?” One of her roommates asked.

“A hundred and twenty.” The girl grabbed a cigarette and lit it.

“How do you always make so much?”

The girl pulled a small pillow from under her shirt.

“It isn’t fair!” her roommate complained.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” Another roommate asked.

“Lonesome Picnic is playing the Doug Fir at nine.” The girl blew a ring of smoke.

“I love Lonesome Picnic,” the roommate said. “But it’s almost nine. How long will it take you to get ready?”

The girl smiled. “How long does it take to put on a pair of black rimmed glasses and a fedora?”

They all laughed.