His Heart Beats 6 Times a Year

Pride is for the Strong

"sorry, man, you're still short." the pimple-faced clerk's voice warbles up and down at the same black clad robber from other night.

"Can't you just overlook it? Put it on my tab or something? not like I won't pay you back." Your neighbor grumbles. You stride in swiftly behind one of the aisles and crane your neck around to watch.

"This isn't a bar, dude, you give this excuse every time." Duly noted, Mr. Sales Clerk, duly noted. So he has a reputation for cheap-skating people.

"Seriously?" he rubs his forehead as if suffering a migraine. "It's my birthday, you know."

"Happy birthday," the smarmy teen says with all the enthusiasm of watching cable news, "But you know that only works on Yuki, not me dude."

Heavy pause. "... and where is she?"

Another heavy pause. "Sick." the clerk says narrowing his eyes. "But she left scratch tickets for you."

"You ...gonna hand them over?"

"Not if you're short..."

So this is how it feels to watch the battle of David vs Goliath...

Despite bearing a closer resemblance to Bambi, the wiry teen fearlessly Dismantled all of your neighbor's excuses with cold indifference. The best part was when he pulled out receipts: Short on 2 Pack of cigarettes...3 bottles of wine... A case of beer... 2 bags of jerky...

Normally, you would've let this play out, but it was 3AM. So Why not just foot the bill again for your stingy neighbor so you can get going? You saunter forward, revealing your presence as you wrestle ahead of him.

"How much does he owe?"

The clerk raised an inquisitive eyebrow at you. "4.50 for the wine."

"I meant his total debt?"

His eyes grew wider before glaring angrily at your neighbor, probably assuming he was the one who roped you into this.

"... 86.87." the teen says angrily. You put your items on the table and flip through your wallet for cash, "Cover it and mine too please"

It was more exhaustion than altruism that drove you to pay this time, but as long as you get home, you were fine with it. Now seated, you shove the key in the ignition. But hard knuckles rapping on your window cause you to jump as if it were Michael Myers. Clutching your chest, you whip your head around to see your neighbor magically appearing beside you.

How does he keep doing that? Now you knew for sure it was a skill he mastered and not just some fluke.

He holds up something that made you reach instinctively for your wallet just in case he was a pulling another magic trick...

"Next time, don't be in such a rush, Miss Beverly Hills." He says with your license dangling helplessly between his fingers. Embarrassed, you begrudgingly roll your window down.
He shoves it through the window then pulls a bottle of wine and thrusts that in your face too. Ah, the drink he promised. Maybe he wasn't lying when he told the clerk he'd pay him back...

"You keep it. Heard you say it was your birthday, right? When is it, by the way?".

"December." He deadpans.

You smack your forehead. Yup, clearly not in a teasing mood tonight.

"I meant the date, Einstein. Give me a date." You clarify pinching the bridge of your nose.

His face immediately shifts from stoic into this hilariously imbecilic expression. "Oh, that's what you meant." He looks to the corners of his eyes. "Sure. I'm free this weekend," he replies innocently.