She slams her hand against the window of the cafe that left the bench out for her, and the boom of it reverberates up and down the street. "Where my Four-Loko, hoes?" she yells at her friends, and they just laugh.
But when the guy walking around the corner sees her lolling across the bench and asks her if she's okay, her friends descend en masse: "She fine, don't worry about it, mind your business, okay?"
One year ago: Love and Light
Two years ago: Reminiscing
Three years ago: We Got Off at the Same Stop, Is All
Four years ago: Exactly HOW Do You Like Them?