Hot summer nights I might add.
The windows rolled down, a warm breeze, the day closes with an order of Cherry Lime Aide and tots. Sometimes, and very rarely, it’s a rootbeer float. A black and white cat walks across the lot toward a car that apparently leaves treats for it. The Sonic Cat is what I’ve always called him. Another pick-up truck pulls up.
A carhop skates by to Sara Evan’s latest tune. He long brown ponytail is pulled through the back of her cap and a few strands shimmer in the lights. Her red tray is loaded with a family’s supper and she carefully reaches each bag to the window. A young couple sit at the center table playing footsies, giggling, and slurping on their cokes.
The Kid yawns. A bite of my last tot is taken and the other half tossed into the paper bag. I wipe the smeared catchup from my wrist as we slowly back out of our space with the windows still rolled down.
“I don’t really know how I got here
But I’m sure glad that I did
And it’s crazy to think that one little thing
Could’ve changed all of it”