My boyfriend said, "If I go to McDonald's, will you go get drinks from the gas station next door?"
I said, "Yes. Don't forget my sweet and sour sauce."
When I walked into the store, I saw the lady behind the counter. She has "crack head teeth". Rotting, crooked, falling out of the mouth teeth that would make a dentist very rich. People who do crack for long periods of time have teeth like that.
Then I saw the guy leaning on the counter. He just gave me bad vibes. He was in a wife-beater, jeans, and I didn't even see his shoes. Because when my eyes got to his waistband, I saw a mother fucking pistol.
My first thought was, "I can't die yet. I have nuggets waiting for me at home."
Then he turned around to look at me so I walked in and pretended I didn't see a damn thing. The manager walked out and they started counting the register.
"My nuggets! I can't get shot yet! Fuck, who's going to cover my shift tomorrow?" I wondered.
Then the gun guy left.
I felt relieved. I realized that he was the boyfriend of the lady with the crack-head teeth, which made me feel highly less relieved.
I thought I was going to die again when I saw him sitting outside glaring at the rush of people who followed me into the store.