Belmar spit the tooth out and watched it skid over the concrete. It bounced against a flattened can of 7-Up and made a ting, then stopped, root system up, a small molar, same as last time. He gave it a flick with his index finger and watched it roll onto the over turned paper plate that had the Jenkins' boot print on it and a fresh brown smear at the edge. Jenkins had stepped in dog shit but Belmar wasn't going to tell him. Jenkins had a plush yellow carpet back at his office.
Jenkins and his mechanic just finished beating Belmar out behind the 7-11s dumpster, the place where they usually beat people. Belmar owed Jenkins 800 on the Vikings fiasco. Vikings lost on an offside call, leading to the Jets field goal. Unexpected. Belmar had the money but didn't want to pay him. Jenkins was a dick so Belmar preferred to lose the tooth. Last time Belmar had been to the dentist was 1993 anyway; last time he had a job. Teeth are overrated.
Belmar moaned, "Where am I?" then peeked at his watch. He was looking forward to his cup of coffee. He had already decided he was going to douse it with a little whole milk then two packs of brown sugar instead of one. And go with the dark roast this time.
Coffee Time
