David was a loner, but never alone. He always had his thoughts.

He encountered Mrs. Scott as she left the grocery store.

“Hello, David, how are you today?”

Like you give a shit. “I'm just fine, it's such a beautiful morning. Here, let me help you with those bags.”

Why the hell don't you use a cart like normal people.

“Thank you, David, you're such a nice boy, the car's right over there.”

I know where your car is, you old bitch, haven't I been toting your crap for years?

David put the bags in the back seat, carefully arranging them so that at least one would topple at the first turn or stop.

“David, say hello to your mother for me, would you?" 

“Sure, Mrs Scott, I'd be glad to, and you say hi to Mr Scott for me."  If you can wake the fat bastard up.

David continued down the street, greeting his neighbors with a smile and friendly remark to each one, even old Mr Haskins. “How are you feeling, Mr Haskins, is the arthritis better now that it's warmer?” Why are you even out of the house, hobbling down the street and getting in people's way?

“Yes, a little bit, David, but it's a good thing you fixed my walker, I've needed it more and more lately. Thanks again, you're a handy fella to have around."

“Why, no thanks are needed, I was glad to do it.” Just wait 'til that leg I “fixed” gives out, and maybe I'll get lucky and you go down the stairs. Then it's off to the old folks home or cemetery, finally.

“Okay, you take it easy now, and if you need anything, let me know.”

At the gas station Jim Gibbons waved him down. “Dave, have you got a couple minutes?"  It's David, you asshole, when are you going to get it straight.

“Sure, Jim, what do ya need?"  Like I've got all the time in the world for you, Jerk.

“Can you watch the station for a few minutes? I've got to take a car back to a customer and he'll drive me back. It shouldn't take over ten minutes." 

“Of course, Jim, have I ever let you down?"  I'll bet you stop at the bar first for a couple boilermakers, you fuckin' drunk.

“Thanks, Dave, you're a pal.”

“Take your time, Jim, I'll be here.” I'd rather be home, beatin' off, than watch this pathetic business of yours.

A car pulled up to the pumps. David went to the car window as an older man started to get out, “Can I help you, sir?" 

“I thought this was a self serve station?” Of course it is, stupid.

“Yes, it is, but I wasn't busy and like to give a little extra when I can.” Besides, you'd probably spill gas all over, you old fart.

"Well, that's mighty nice of you. I was only going to get a few gallons, but now you can fill it up.” Oh, shit, now I've got to stand out here in the sun and fill this old fool's tank.

“All filled sir, and I washed the windshield, now you have a nice day.” Wait until he finds his gas cap missing, that'll be a nice day.

After the car left, David prowled around the service bay. In the back room he saw the used oil tank and opened the drain just a little. If numb nuts doesn't come back here, it'll take hours before it runs into the main bay. He'll think he didn't tighten it enough.

When Jim returned he held out a five dollar bill to David and said, “Thanks, Dave, sometimes I don't know what I'd do if you weren't around. I wish I could hire you, but I'm just getting by as it is."  If you'd lay off the sauce you'd probably be able to fix this place up, asswipe.

“Aw, no Jim, keep your money, I was glad to help you out.” What the hell am I gonna do with a lousy five bucks, you cheap prick.

“Okay, Jim, keep up the good work, I'll see you later.” Good work my ass, I wouldn't let him fix my coaster wagon.

David finally reached home. “Hi mom, hi dad, how did your day go, folks?” As if anything changes around this shithole.

His mother replied, “Hi, David honey, get washed up, I've made a nice beef roast for dinner.” Another burnt piece of dead cow. You'd think she'd learn how to cook after twenty some years of marriage, no wonder the old man's such a skinny wreck.

“Sounds delicious, mom, is there anything I can do to help?"  If she'd move her fat ass everything would be done by now.

“Oh, honey, if you could set the table that would be great."  I knew I'd get stuck doing women's work.

“And David, would you see if Grandma is feeling up to eating with us?"  If the old cow would get out of bed and move around some I bet she'd feel better than laying on her fat ass all day.

“I'll check on her as soon as I get done with the table.” I wish her room was upstairs, maybe I'd get a chance to nudge her wheel chair down them.

David finished the table and went into his grandmother's room. “How's my favorite girlfriend, feeling like eating at the table?"  You could really stuff your fat face there.

“Yes, I would, if you'd help me into my chair, sweetie?"  If you simper at me like that again I'll puke all over that ugly robe you've got on.

“You bet, just hold my arm.” I said hold, not yank. My God, you get heavier every day, have you got a stash of cookies in here? I'll bet you're scarfing down junk food like crazy. I'll have to figure a way to narc to the doctor on you. Nah, better yet, maybe you'll eat yourself to death. I think I'll bring you a box of chocolates, that'll help your diabetes put you away.

Dinner was as usual, a pleasant conversation among them. David ate with his impeccable manners, answering every question or statement with an affable smile and quiet answer, keeping his thoughts to himself.

After dinner he helped pick up, washed the dishes, and retired to his room and his computer, looking up pornographic story sites and jacking off. He turned in a little early and his last thoughts were of the future. I've got to figure out how to get out of this rat hole. I wonder how the wills are made out? Maybe a nice little fire some night would do it.

Thus ended another day in David's life, the town's favorite son.