“Aren’t you a cutie?” she said to me, eyeing me up and down on the side of Luke Road, just outside of Erie. “You lonely out here and need some company?”
I did, but not with her. The poor thing wasn’t my type at all. “That your baby in the back?”
“Angel is her name. Ain’t she pretty?”
“Same blue eyes as you have, huh?”
“The apple of my eye.”
I thought of pulling Tiffany, Honey, or Barbie’s eyes out of her skull, but I thought our needs were somewhat similar, even if I didn’t know much about her at all. Instead of being a monster, I said, “Where you driving to?”
“Harper.”
“On the other side of Erie, right?”
“Yes.” She nodded, tried to smile, but didn’t.
I then realized she was a bit fidgety, strummed her fingers on the steering wheel, blinked numerous times, and licked her upper lip uncontrollably. I wondered if she was high on meth, or something similar to meth. Or was she relapsing? Did she need her chosen drug? Did she think I had that drug while walking Luke Road?