James

James!, he blurted out as he stood pissing in the toilet. The urine smelled musky. It was the name of a fellow he was drinking with. He'd not met him prior and considered the importance of recalling his name. His name was James and they'd most likely become drinking buddies. But that was far off, first he would have to find the car. That damn Subaru, the bloody thing appeared as any of the other white Subies in the parking lot. It had been a highly successful seller in the car market, territorially at the least. It seemed everyone in the West Koot's knew someone with a white Subie station wagon. I think they labeled them Legacy. After pissing and a brief interlude of vomiting, Jack zipped his pants and chucked his empty beer can into a barrel in the corner of the dark lower level parkade. Fuck it!, just test the alarm. How else would he find the white Subie in all this that blended like a Daiquiri. Jack reached into his shirt pocket as the Subie's alarm sounded and drew a cigarette from a twenty pack. The tobacco had dried in the heat of summer and fell like dandruff at a curling rink. He knew that time was running short and that his dignity was on the line and that his future lay in the hands of James.