The thing about summer on the boardwalk was, it meant a lot of people.
More people now, than before. Before, when summer meant a handful of rich CEO's sons smoking 100s and drinking Kristal out of mummy's expensive stemware. Or, summer as it was when that smelly bum under the peer tried to sell you meth every time you walked by. More people than Jimmy Hopkins remembered growing up with. More than he wanted. Not that he didn't like the extra shot at business, but, simply, more people meant more trouble. That fact would never change.
Curling his fingers around the butt of rolled paper in his grip, Jimmy sucked on the end one last time, before throwing his spliff down and heeling out the ember on the wood of the boardwalk. The day was too hot. Too noisy. Normally, this sort of thing didn't bother Jimmy, but after a heavy night of drinking and a pricey financial bet gone sour, even the normally cheerful sounds of children laughing brought an unpleasant scowl to his face.
'One step at a time,' The young man muttered in his mind, and shoved his fists resolutely into the pockets of his favorite pair of army cut-offs. 'Jesus, can't that kid shut up?'
Jimmy moved down the boardwalk, a fine sheen of sweat working up across his bare shoulders. He glared brazenly over one of them at a screaming child as she pulled her mother towards the ice cream booth, and wondered if he himself had ever screamed like that, when he had been small?
Probably not, considering since he'd been a baby, his mother had always given him this sage advice, just before locking him in his room...
'it's a dog-eat-dog world, Jimmy.'
Miserable frigid bitch.
Yeah, well, she also never let him have ice cream. Maybe now would be a good time for it.
Jimmy was rooting in his back pocket for his wallet, when the inevitable happened.
He spotted old company.
Wondering what rich fucks like Derby Harrington or Tad Spencer were doing down on the boardwalk of all places seemed suddenly pointless. What did seem smart was, how slowly could he ease back into the crowd?