The wailing could be heard from the back of the store. Most of the clerks continued stocking Lunchables and deodorant and blister packed toys from China. The customers, in fashion with the culture of the transient Phoenician workforce, tried not to pay any attention to the old black lady on the floor. This time a Wal-Mart. Last time it was a Smitty’s. Cashiers coalesced around the fallen woman. One leg splayed at 30 degrees, the other tapping on the tile to syncopate the yelps. The mess was a nasty mélange of the things she bought: a four pack of Dial, 24 pack of Playtex, a deli sandwich- Italian, clear plastic lighter. The things she stole: 4oz Purex, steel wool-pulled out of the package, antihistamine. It looked like she broke her arm right next to the wet floor sign.
    That day I noticed the boss was a bit more focused. The morphine lollipops paired like tusks led the charge as he barreled through the pawnshop. As he hooked the corner by the jewelry safe and made for his office adjacent the pawn storage, I saw Barbra adjusting her arm sling, following.
    She was always an entertaining bullshitter, usually at the counter bumming a smoke, or a few bucks, trading good cheer. After her transaction she would usually hook up her friends in the business. Roger and I took a break out back in the Rolls Royce kit car to puff one. This was our thrice daily respite from the monotony of resurrecting undeserving guitars to sell, or bartering a janky playstation with a down and out ex-proballer. Barbra would join us today and most days when she was around. Her voice would drop from 70db to a more agreeable 50 after the percaset took hold. She liked us and our drugs. We liked her and her drugs.
    In the rear storage among the jet skis, cars, choppers, and the random utility vehicle, our white Rolls was more façade than substance. It looked like business on the outs, but the interior was pep boys gauges and institutional blue carpet. This suited us well as the durable pile allowed mistakes in the passing of the roach. The power plant was a 350 Chevy, although it hadn’t run since we’d known it. We had smoked out and been smoked out by our regulars: Paul the Pima, Tweaker Matt, a random art student selling paintings. Everyone but the gypsies. They didn’t hang out.
     Our reasons for going out back included arranging things- guitar cases in the walk-in locker, the aforementioned vehicles and stuff and things. I think our coworkers had their suspicions, but none would come to check on us in 110 degree heat. We had visine and mints and good work ethic and we weren’t hurting anyone.
    Coming in I busied myself with getting the lunch order. I never minded getting out of the shop, and generally got to keep the change.
    I left Greasy Tony’s with several bags from other restaurants. One of the charms of the place, notwithstanding the sandwich titled “the garbage can” (my fave), was the fact that they didn’t have their own bags. The ones I received that day came from Burger King, Taco Bell, and Chipotle. It’s only now that I wonder how they came to possess so many bags from the competition.
    Just as everyone was finishing lunch, several bail bondsmen came running out of the office. The place was in riot mode. Boredom prevailing, I took chase to find an ambulance next door, a man on the ground in handcuffs- spitting at the officers. The EMTs had triage masks on. The spitting guy had tracks and a cough. It took three of the bail bondsmen to subdue him. One of the guys was cut on the hand and taken to the hospital. It was later found that the man had the trifecta of TB, HIV, and heroine withdrawal.
    The shop was abuzz with the events of that day for many days after.
Barbra came by to report that she had seen that man at the hospital the same day she faked her fall at wal-mart. After her consult and subsequent pain treatment she sat in the waiting room next to him. The orderly provided her with some water to quench her pill induced cottonmouth. Her boyfriend was en route.
    She hadn’t noticed the blood on her cup till she tasted it.