“Yeah, she sure is!” I replied with a smile and looked up at her and laughed. Paula was a fucking mess. “I said I agree! The state of that,” I added and laughed and looked over at the Slush Puppie machine that was insulting Paula. My smile faded as I stared at it. It stared at me. “Don’t bother, mate,” I told it. But it just stared at me, trying to hypnotise me with its beaters. It had no chance, it was wasting its time because I knew it wasn’t really talking, I was just fucking around. Like the time I gave myself Tourette’s. It was just a bit of fun. “Isn’t that right, Slush Puppie Machine?” I stared at it and screamed and did a wild flailing karate chop when I felt the hand on my shoulder. It was Enrique. I shook my head and looked around the shop. “What?”
“Wha’ chu doin’?” He asked.
“Chu jus’ starin’, man.”
“I know, it’s the erm…” I licked my lips and snorted. “Hey, Enrique. We gotta get music back in this place, yeah?”
We haven’t had music in the shop for 3 years because-
“Bamboleo?” Asked Enrique.
Because Bamboleo. I nodded. I don’t even know what it’s called. That song that goes ‘Bambleo! bambolaya! ba-da-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-baaaa!’ In foreign. Non-stop. All fucking day.
Enrique rubbed his hands together and walked rapidly to his office, leaving me alone in the shop with It. It and the Slush Puppie Machine. I looked at the machine. It looked undefeated. “I’m going to cover you up!” I told it. “No, I am!” “Yeah, really!” “Really!” “Yeah?” “I’d like to fucking see it.” “Go on then, just do it.” “Fuck off,” I told it and then looked down the aisle at Paula. She was sort of dancing and looking happy while cutting the ends of sausage rolls but that ended abruptly when Bamboleo started blaring out of the speakers. I closed my eyes.