“I sit in the white car, exactly where I’m supposed to be, down Damen Avenue, in an alley facing west. I can see the front of the Rainbo Club, a trendy late night watering hole. I just want to go in and join them, suck down some cold beers, shots of whiskey to warm my wet, freezing bones. But I don’t know what my victim looks like, so I sit here and scan the road for the tan piece of crap he’ll be driving. I sulk in this white box of pain, no heater, no radio, eager to get this done. There are a... lot of Camrys tonight, but none with matching plates. It’s late, I know that much, but the neon from Rainbo keeps glowing in the dark, so it can’t be past three yet. I stare at the door, watching one drunk after another spill out and down the steps. Flannel shirts with shaggy hair, jeans, and motorcycle boots. Short skirts and knee-high leather, tightly wrapped breasts just begging for attention. Black Elvis Costello glasses, dark sweaters, and soul patches on the chin. Ponytails and six silver earrings, white sheer tops and skintight leggings.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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