He glanced out the window, seeing the ripples of heat waft through the air outside, a polar opposite temperature from the breezy convenient store.

Sugary and salty snacks lined the dusty wooden shelves, each one leading to the freezer in the back which contained sticky icypops and freezing cold sodas.

His car was in need of a clean, dust and dirt clinging to the once slick sides of the Cadillac–the windows smudged with fingerprints and rain marks. That’s why he stopped by this gas station, out of the way on his route back home from set.

The place had popped up about two months ago out of nowhere. All the staff were young things. Hardbodies with tiny shorts and an even tinier sense of dignity. Their carwashes were notorious.

The girls, in polka dotted and pin-stripped bikinis, skin sunkissed and shinning, scrubbing up car hoods and hitches. They’d put on a skimpy show with it, splashing each other with the water hose or pressing up against the windows just right to give whatever passenger was in the car a less than tasteful view.

It was a smart idea, and the bastard who thought it up was making good money. Good money for a gas station manager at least.

Customers would come by multiple times a day, paying a hefty 25 dollars just to watch the girls run out and clean their vehicles. Cliff was one of those customers.

Now, he wasn’t ridiculous with it. He had only stopped by a few times—just enough to remember a few of the girls' faces. But he had considered bringing Rick around on occasion, just to get his mind off of the divorce and such.

Cliff’s heavy hand set down two plastic bottles of ice tea and a pack of cigarettes as his other hand dipped down into his pocket to fish out his wallet. “Add a car wash onto that too.” He mentioned, blue eyes finding the big red sign behind you.

CAR WASH, ONLY 25$!!

“Only? That’s a lot of money just for you and your friends to give me a half-assed cleaning job.” Yet, he set down a twenty and a five on top of the money he already handed over for his other items.