Oh, My Jitters!
By Aaron Majewski
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It was hot, but that was nothing new for Huston in July. Nothing new at all. David adjusted his pants where they clung to him and powered the window of his limo down another inch. To say it was his limo would be a bit misleading, considering it was two years old and he still owed twenty thousand dollars in payments on it. But it's a living, just like anything else. It would support him he knew, until he could finish collage, and then he could expand into his own business. Until then he worked for his uncle, who owned one of the biggest limo services in town.
He was twenty and some of his girlfriends had described him, not always in jest, as a Latin Lothario. He was pretty in the kind of manly way which made women flock to him, with jet black hair and shiny white teeth (five thousand dollars worth of dental work, but his mama was proud).
He flicked his cigarette out the window and lifted the dashboard mic of his CB to his lips as the blaring horns of noontime traffic swirled around him. "Central control, this is C-four slash one nine three." He called in.
Unlike in bad movies there was no burst of static, no crackling barely heard voice on the other end. What came through was immediate, crisp and clear so the speaker may as well have been sitting right next to him. Modern technology had advanced to the point it was cheap to afford good, working equipment. "Hey David. Problem?"