|Flattery or Bribery?
Author: RT13 PM
When a job hunting college student hits another ditch in the road of a sucky, "everyone is out to get me" life, does a stranger make a difference? What works best, flattery or bribery? One-Shot.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor/Crime - Words: 1,229 - Published: 12-07-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3080824
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Flattery or Bribery
"Dammit, I really need to learn to shut up," I muttered bitterly as I trudged down the main street towards my shabby apartment after yet another failed interview. If I didn't get a decent paying job soon, I wouldn't be able to stay in said shabby little apartment.
I got fired for back talking to a customer a few days ago and have been job hunting since. I almost got the job this time at a quaint little café with lots of (well-tipping) regulars but turns out the boss doesn't like being called a creepy perv. Not my fault I like my personal space and he was getting way to close to me while trying to look down my ratty Hollywood Undead t-shirt at my washboard chest. Guy must have been desperate.
Since the day I got fired, the week has been going to Fucking-Bloody-Hell-Someone-Really-Hates-Me-Ville. My harpy of a landlady's been hammering on my door bugging me about paying the month's rent, I got fired, my psychology professor decided to lose the best essay I've probably ever written, I've been kicked out of the few job interviews I got and my ring got stolen by some pickpocketing prick. It wasn't even expensive. It was cheap, fake silver with no decorations. The only reason I had it was because my best friend and I bought one each the day we got our driver's license (though I have yet to actually get my own car). We personalized them by getting a line engraved in the inside. Hers was: You are now cursed while mine was: This sentence is a lie.
Drowning out my misery in upbeat, deafening music I walked past a police car cruiser, alarms blaring loud enough to overpower electric guitars and thundering drums. There's been some sort of thief running around the last few weeks and I think he just robbed another store. The police have been trying to catch him, but so far the little sneak has eluded them.
Not my problem. But, if it's the same prick that stole my ring, I wouldn't mind seeing him shoved in a cruiser while handcuffed.
I continued to walk past the cops until I was passing a regular old alley when my wandering eyes caught a figure moving in the shadows. I ignored it, thinking it was probably a possum raiding the dumpsters, a hobo or some junkies or something.
I carried on, readjusting the strap of my small bag over my shoulder when I felt a hand yank my arm into the alley. My ear buds fell out from the abrupt movement, but I could still hear the music since I kept the volume unhealthily high.
"Ow, hey, watch it!" I yelled, preparing to face my abductor. Hopefully one year of karate and multiple Jackie Chan marathons would be helpful if the situation turned for the worse. Screaming bloody murder might help slightly too with a kick to my attacker's groin and kneecaps.
The hands released me and I faced a boy around the same age as me, though he was dressed in dark clothes. He put his hands above his head in surrender, "I won't hurt you, I just wanted your help."
I eyed him suspiciously, "Why?"
He looked behind me to the main road and put on an innocent mask, "Well you see, my plans didn't go exactly as planned and now I'm in a bit of a jam. I'm sure a beautiful, smart girl like you can help me out, right?" The boy tried to pull of a charming smile always mentioned in sappy teen romance novels. Unlike the novels, this one did zilp. In fact, it made him look like he had a horrible rash in a very embarrassing location and he was trying to ignore it in vain.
"Flattery won't get you anywhere, buddy," I answered, already beginning to walk away and stuffing my ear buds back in place. Who doesn't love destroying their eardrums through the use of loud music that pays for a rock star's private jet?
He grabbed my wrist and looked past my shoulder worriedly, eyes narrowed and shifting, as the sirens continued playing.
So he's the little sneak, eh? He's an idiot if he thinks I'll help him just because of a few words. Wait...Will I get a reward or something for turning him in?
He reached into his pocket and I tensed for a knife or a gun or something, but instead he shoved a wad of cash in my face.
"How about bribery?" he rushed, desperate now.
I looked down at the priceless paper that had the world under lock and key. But, as tempting as it was, I moved to try and release myself.
His grip tightened out of anxiety as he hurriedly spluttered, "W-Wait!" He dug in his pocket again and pulled out a silver ring. A simple faux silver band with no fancy bling, blang, shamazzles or anything. If I was correct, then it would only have engraved writing in the inside: This sentence is a lie.
I stopped and eyed the ring before reaching out and taking a look at it.
I smirked. Well, whaddya know? This sentence is a lie.
After pocketing the ring, I flicked through the wad of various notes. A whole 385 bucks in total. This'll be pretty helpful 'till I get another job. Oooh... Decisions, decisions... Fuck it, I ain't no saint.
I stuffed the cash into my bag and gave a secretive smile to the relieved fugitive, "Well, bribery can definitely take you places. Sit tight, I've got an idea."
He released me and relaxed against the wall as I waved and walked out the alleyway. I saw him sort through the inside of his jacket, no doubt checking his loot. When I was on the main street again, I faced the direction of the confused cops.
Taking in a deep breath I cupped my hands around my mouth and hollered, "HEY! He's over here!"
When the four uniformed officers looked my way, I waved one arm above my head and pointed frantically towards the alley entrance. "He's in here! Hurry!"
They wasted no time in preparing their standard .40 cal and charging to the alley. I stepped out of the way just in time for the thief to dash out in a desperate attempt to escape. A tougher, faster and burlier cop easily restrained him and snapped on the metal cuffs with a definite click.
The cop herded the resisting thief to the still blaring cruiser as onlookers watched in fascination. The thief looked behind him to see me smirking and glared, "You lying bitch!"
I snorted, "I didn't lie. I said it'd take you places, and look! You're going to the slammer."
I ignored the unimaginative profanities spewing from his mouth as I turned my back to the commotion. I doubted they would remember me or even look for me considering the throng of onlookers that generally always followed crime.
Without a backward glance, I flicked my wrist in a careless wave over my shoulder, "See you never, buddy."