Pissed It Away

They had a freezing drive to the outskirts of Boston, three hours in the slush and no heat. 

"What kind of rental car don't have a heater?" wondered Bob.

"Sometimes when the core goes, they save $900 on repairs just sealing off the ducts," said Tony.

"That is interesting. Too bad you don't know enough to check all the electrics before leaving the rental lot. My balls are frozen." Ray declared this. He was given to declarations.

"We should have taken the train from New York," said Bob.

"What is this? Who does our thinking? You want to run a job and then escape by train? God forbid."

There was quiet in the car. Very carefully, very neutral, Tony said, "We got ideas too."

"Holy shit, a mutiny!"

"Aw Ray, he didn't mean nothing--"

"Nobody can tell you nothing Ray!"

"Pull over. My balls are frozen, my ass is cramping, and now my head hurts."

"Let me find a Denny's, Ray. Some of these joints aren't exactly friendly."

"That is not the venue for the little chat we are about to have. Don't make me yell in a unheated car, I will forget myself."

Tony swung off the highway to a low diner-style bar. A large placard announced it to be OUR PLACE. Tony parked facing the black windows. "Inside mes amis," said Ray.

Inside the bar was dark and loud and smoky.  Bob and Tony took chairs at a table on the floor, but Ray hustled them to a window booth. "Three beers, honey," he said to a passing waitress.

"Order at the bar," she said, walking away.

Ray grunted. "Siddown and wait. Act casual." He went to the bar which was tended by a skinny geezer with a bow tie and folded shirt sleeves. "Three bottles of Bud."

"Eleven dollars," said the bartender.

"Now that, is a bargain!" said Ray.

"Eleven dollars a bottle," said the bartender. 

Ray laughed. "Then make it six bottles. My associates will pay. You guys bake a pizza pie?"

"That ain't funny," said the bartender. 

"Relax oldtimer," said Ray. "Give us a large pepperoni pizza pie. We're over by the window."

Ray slid back to the window booth. "That's better! Warm balls, hot food and cold beer. We'll soon put that drive out of memory."

Bob and Tony stared down at the table. Ray sighed. "I gotta admit, I am an asshole."

Nobody said nothing.

"But in my line of work that is a plus.

And I'm the best. I got forty banks under my belt. And here on the East coast, i figure we can do another dozen without hogging it.  After that, sure, they'll be waiting for us.  But we won't be here. Let the local yokels sweat it out.  We'll be sunning ourselves in California. 

"But what I gotta know, is are you boys with me? I can use the help on a sure thing. But make no mistake, I can find it."

Bob and Tony stared at the table. Ray laughed. "Hey, where's our beer? Look into that while I use the john. Oh, take care of the bar tab willya?"

Ray used the urinal, then walked over to the stall.  At least the place was clean. He took his time, washed his hands. He'd said what needed to be said. Now he just had to hear some bitching.

There was something wrong about the door, but Ray opened it before he realized the music was off.  By then he was through.

The house lights were up . Everyone was watching him. The front door was blocked by a big man, easily four feet across. "You oughta be a wall mount, the stupidest fuck in these United States." He pointed at the wall behind the bar. "Right there."

Ray crashed through the fire door, slipping through snow, praying the Ford would start smoothly. It did, and as they grabbed him Ray watched it roll backwards out the driveway and jerk forwards forever, so close and yet so far away...