Hugh and the Dead-Beats

Cruising 'round town under the wheel. I leapt out on to my two runner-equipped, sock-loaded feet on to the footpath and into, deeply into, walking speed. I lurched forward, towards a hazy, browed figure and hastily replaced his scowl with surprise. The directions he gave me were clear, and concise — I thanked him. I asked if he had a match — he did not. We stood in silence and waited for me to speak. But his answers were monosyllabic and that pissed me off somewhat. The delay annoyed us — him most of all; you could tell he was incredibly uncomfortable.

He looked like he thought he meant something and I meant nothing. He went over to the vending machine and bought a Paddle Pop. This was just an excuse, though, 'cause he just stared at it until it arrived.