the extravalue meal

             Aaron lit a Basic brand cigarette as Amir pulled his beat up 1976 snot
             green Chevy Nova into the crowded parking lot of the McDonalds on Route 1 in
             Saugus, Massachusetts. He always seemed to do this to himself; lighting
             cigarettes when he'd just have to snipe them out on the bottom of his tattered
             army boot. He put his pointer finger to his head and pantomimed shooting
             himself. Amir glanced at him uneasily, then scanned the lot for an open space.
             Aaron drew hard on his cigarette, filling his lungs with as much smoke
             as possible. He needed to get as much nicotine as time allowed. He shut his
             eyes, flicked his tongue against his sterling silver lip ring, spinning it in
             the hole. It hurt a little. "Probably fuckin' infected," Aaron chuckled,
             thinking of the night he pierced it himself, using only a heated up safety pin
             and a bottle of Smirnov vodka for a pain killer.
             Amir pulled into a handicap spot. "You can't park here," Aaron said.
             "Sure I can," Amir replied. Aaron studied the face of the Bosnian
             Immigrant. Amir had fought for two years in the war against the Serbs. His
             face was remarkably pleasant, although his eyes looked as if they belonged to a
             forty year old man and not a seventeen year old boy. His tan skin and wide
             smile seemed out of place when one took in Amir's mohawk and torn black t-shirt.
             "Exactly," Amir said with a smirk. "I got you in my car, and you're a
             "Fuck you," Aaron said, "I'll blast you Sylvester Stallone style."
             Amir burst into hysterical laughter. "You watch too much television."
             Aaron shrugged and slowly exhaled through his nose, decorated with a
             silver hoop ring through his septum (also self-pinned). He caught sight of
             himself in the rearview mirror. He felt cold.
             His eyes were alert, almost piercing. Around those fiery, stab
             ...

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the extravalue meal. (1969, December 31). In MegaEssays.com. Retrieved 06:18, March 28, 2024, from https://www.megaessays.com/viewpaper/18078.html