‘Please be open. Please be open.’ is all Louis could hope for.
Louis got out of his car, walked in, demanding to speak to a car consultant.
What seemed to be an older man, with a long grey beard that reached down to the middle of his chest, short peppered colored hair, pointy thin nose, a chiseled jawline, and green shiny emerald eyes, popped his head up from underneath the wooden countertop.
“Well, I am the only one working right now.. that being said, What can I do fo ya today?” The other man spoke first, which caught Louis by surprise because he wasn't expecting that man's voice to be so deep as so…. country-like. It kinda turned him on.
"I want to Sell my car." Louis mentioned firmly, While maintaining eye contact and somewhat of a straightforward tone.
“Err…. Alright. I’m not sure if I can help you on that one, because we sell cars, we don't really buy em... Unless it's a car that a sheep drives." The man paused, waiting for Louis to ask why, but got a "huh?" instead.
"A lamborghini"
The mans' stern look cracked into a wide mouth smile as he laughed at his own joke. He looked at Louis while the man wiped a single tear from the corner of his eye, but Louis didn't react to the mans corny joke; it was more awkward than funny..
"BUT I’ll see what I can do for ya” the older man mentioned as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head. There was an awkward moment of silence as Louis waited kind of impatiently for the mans’ response. The man looked as if he was scrolling through catalogs, looking for some type of information in the computer; with all that keyboard tapping he was doing.
After awhile Louis seemed to have zoned out, as his peaceful daydream was brutally interrupted by the man. “First things first, license and vehicle registration please.”
“Okay.” Louis said as he tapped the outside of his pockets with the palms of his hands, as if feeling for something. Then it hit him, he remembered that all his important documents were put away in his office drawer… which he obviously won’t be able to get too. “I don’t have it on me, is there anyway to see if that information can be provided to you online?” He accidentally slurred his words, as he tried to maintain his composure.
“Nope.” The man said instantly. He then directed Louis’ attention to a sign that hung behind the counter, saying “no papers? No help.” The man sighed as he crossed his arms, looking at Louis, as if this isn’t the first time he’s dealt with a customer like this.
“Shit..” Louis mumbled. “Please man, you have to help me.” He pleaded. “I have nowhere to go and I just need some cash.” How pathetic Louis felt. He never thought he would get to an all time low like this. Especially not like this. Where everything was stripped away from him instantly. “Please…” he mumbled.
“I’m sorry sir, but unfortunately I cannot help you unless you can provide proper documentation or ownership of “your” car.” The older man sighed deeper, while air quoting with his fingers and looking at Louis. Louis’ eyes watered, and looked at the man in defeat. “Alright, I understand.”
After another few moments of awkward silence, and Louis not knowing what todo with himself. “Here.” The man stated, as he slid a business card towards Louis. “The names Ollie. Yours?” It’s almost as if this old man was giving into him, as if he was helping a stray puppy. At least, that’s what Louis seemed To look like in Ollies’ eyes.
“Louis. Louis Aabis" He replied, gently picking up the card and observing its details, which had Ollies’ contact information on it. “If you need money, we are looking for someone to hire.”
Louis felt many emotions surging through his body at once, one of which, feeling very unnatural. Even though he was the face of a very famous company, it's weird how hardly anyone can recognize who he is. Even so, he had a very strong urge to just tell the guy to shut the fuck up and leave him alone, out of frustration. Louis then remembered the situation he was in, and decided to stay quiet. He knew better and figured that he’s in no position to do that to someone, especially when they don’t deserve that kind of treatment. “Thank you..” He sighed, trying to let go of his pride. Louis grabbed the card and put it away in his wallet with a hard old grain of salt. Louis then made up his mind, and tossed his keys to Ollie, who caught it instantly.
“Do what you want. Junk my car. Sell it. I don’t care. I don’t want it anymore.” He stated. “Thank you.” He said once more. “I’ll be seeing you within the next week or so.” And with that, Louis walked outside and sighed deeply, falling to his knees and sobbing softly right by the corner of the store.
By that time, nightfall had already came.
Louis approached his car weakly, throwing his wallet onto the ground and stomping on it, in a fit of rage. Tears streamed down his face, and he kicked the rim of his-used-to-be car tire. He then punched the car door, yelling when he felt a sudden jolt of pain shoot up his forearm. With that one punch, he cracked his knuckle open. More tears started to flow down the side of his cheeks as he began to ugly cry. He held onto his curled fist, as blood dripped down into the cracks of his other hand, spewing out from the sides. He looked at his hand and did nothing to stop the bleeding.
“FUCK. I HATE THIS.” he screamed, as his voice cracked, as it echoed throughout the small town. But it wasn’t any ordinary scream, it was a scream that you could feel. A scream filled with emotions.
I guess you can say this is his first mental breakdown of the decade. Or maybe his life for that matter. He slid down the side of the door, and cried some more. He felt completely and utterly useless. He wanted to calm himself down but he couldn’t, even though he knew people have it worse than him. He’s grateful that at least he’s alive.
————————————————————————————
After a few minutes or so of crying out all his frustration, he noticed a thrift shop down the street. He picked up what was left of his belongings and walked his little sad ass over to the front of the store.
As he arrived, he read the hours of store operation that lay plastered onto the front door.
“Perfect.” He uttered and felt relieved. The store was closing 20 minutes from then, it gave him just enough time to buy a few things he needed.
Not once, did he ever think he would need to buy clothes from a type of store such as that one. But hey, it is what it is and he might as well start over.
Louis stridded right in, taking a look around the store. It was an unfamiliar sight for Louis, but it was something he was going to have to get used too. He didn’t know how long he was going to be living like this, or where he was going to be living for that matter. As he browsed, he only used his good hand to pick some clothes off of the shelves. He grabbed a long sleeve plaid shirt, just cause winter was starting to come and he didn’t want to be left out in the cold. He grabbed a pair of faded jeans that looked like it fit him just right, 2 pairs of black socks, 3 pairs of underwear, and a new pair of busted converse shoes. These shoes, being the only ones available in his size.
The total came out to $47.86, leaving him with $1,191.53 in his wallet. He can’t go around recklessly spending this money, simply because he wouldn’t have enough to do So. Yes, even though he has more of a head start than others, he still didn’t even have enough to stay for a week at a motel. He had to make the best out of his situation.
He showed one of the workers a Receipt and asked to change in one of the fitting rooms, and so he did. He changed into the cozy plaid shirt, jeans and shoes, leaving his spare underwear and socks in a separate bag to carry on him.
Louis got a good look at himself in the mirror, feeling somewhat content, thinking that this might be for the better. He walked out of the store, leaving his expensive clothes neatly folded on the fitting room bench, along with his name-brand dress shoes.
And what do you know, there just so happens to be a shelter for those in need right next to the dealership. He sighed, deciding to give it a try and walked over to the shelter, making his way into the beige gated entrance.
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