Dirty Laundry Secret: Broken In.

Luis isn’t always in the store like everyone else and sometimes, he sees even crazier sh*t than us. 

Let’s take you back to last Friday. Here’s what happened… in his point of view. 

Last Friday

Music’s blasting, traffic’s smooth, and I haven’t been yelled at by a client yet — that’s how I like my Friday nights.

Let’s see… I got… one… two… three deliveries left and I’m done for the night. I should be done by 8:30 p.m. or 9:00 p.m. the latest.

And no bullsh*t has happened yet…  Damn, I almost don’t know what to do with myself!

(And that’s when he jinxed himself…)

1 Hour Later

I sighed into my seat and stretched, turning off the truck before I hopped out. The night was quiet — also how I like my Friday nights.

The streetlights barely illuminated the concrete sidewalks, but the people outside didn’t seem to mind that at all. 

I headed to the back of the truck and lugged out a few pick-ups. Just a few steps and I’m out of here.

I made it to home base and forced open the lock with my free hand. It was dark — all I could hear was my footsteps on the creaking floor. 

I went back out and left the shop open. It should be good for a minute, right?

As I made my way to and from the truck — with three more laundry loads blocking my view – I avoided the cracks on the street, but could see up ahead that something seemed off.

Did the store sign just move?

As I approached it, there was a figure behind it. No… a person. 

What the f*ck? — Was my initial thought.

Then, my next one? Let’s mess with them.

I stood far enough where I could see her, but she couldn’t see me. This is the funniest thing ever.

In her right hand was a small blunt. In the other hand, she kept trying her light but it kept making that flick sound, with no spark. 

“Sh*t,” I could see her muttering. She kept trying, and trying, and trying. It began to get painful to watch, and sh*t I was just trying to get home.

“Who are you?” I said. 

Startled, a girl no taller than my 15-year-old niece popped out from behind. 

This girl better not be 15…

“Oh sh*t, you scared me,” she looked at me as if I was her father scolding her for trying to light a blunt in front of me, but suddenly she switched moods. “Can you light this for me?”

Is she really asking me for help? 

I laughed in disbelief, “Go home, kid.” 

She scoffed – as any teenage girl would – and left her sanctuary behind the store sign. I heard her footsteps slowly disappear and I couldn’t help but laugh as I went into the store to drop off the last few pickups.

Time to go home. I rubbed my hands together, signaling my time off, but suddenly I was trapped. 

Dramatic… I know, but no. I was being deada**.

“You really can’t light it for me, man?” It was a high pitched voice again and a figure that mimicked my 15-year-old niece. But why would my niece come all the way from the Bronx at this time of night just for a light?

Then it clicked. It’s this girl again. Bruh.

“I know you did not just come in here for a damn light,” I said, in a definitely scolding-father tone. 

“Relax, dude,” she sighed. “I just need this, okay!”

“Nah,” I laughed and brushed past her. “I’m getting out of here and you better get out of here t–” The door didn’t move.

No. no. no. no. no. no. It’s 8:48 p.m. I’m supposed to be on the way home. Not with this damn rebellious child.

I tugged, and tugged, and tugged, but the door wouldn’t budge. 

“Did you lock us in?”

“No old man,” she crossed her arms. “Why the hell would I do that? I just wanted a light so I followed you in–”

“I’ma stop you right there. There’s so much wrong with that sentence.” Suddenly, I remembered what Isaac told me… almost like an epiphany: “NEVER close this door! It’s broken.”

Well, that’s not what I wanted to hear.

“Whatever,” the girl brought me back to this (terrible) reality, tucking away her precious small blunt. “I’ll be on my way,” she pulled open the door, but almost ricocheted into it. 

“Great.” I jinxed myself earlier, didn’t I?

The Next Day

“Luis, why did I get a call from the fire department last night?!”

“Molly, it’s a long… story.”

“Luis, you know I always have time to hear your crazy stories.”

“A blunt got me locked inside of the shop and I couldn’t get out.”

Molly blinked, “Huh?”