Intermission
The awkward, bespectacled, greasy sci-fi fan with the nervous laugh looked over the Star Trek DVD box sets with a trace of longing. I rang up his stack of books; three Star Wars novelizations along with two Deep Space Nine adaptations.
�Yes,� he said for no reason at all in a high nasal flem-flecked voice that had obviously never touched a drop of whiskey or inhaled a cigarette, �I�m really looking forward to the new Star Wars movie.�
�Really?�
�Oh yes, aren�t you?�
�Good god, no. I�m still suffering nightmares about the sheer awfulness of Episode One.�
He changed the subject abruptly, looking a little hurt. �Well, The Hitchiker�s Guide turned out pretty good.�
�Did it? I haven�t seen it yet.�
�Yes.� He started chuckling. I waited for him to let go of his credit card so I could scan it.
�I believe it was the only movie that Ebert and Roeper gave two thumbs out for.�
He giggled harder, still not letting go of the card. I stared at him. He continued to giggle, shoulders convulsing up and down.
I�m surprised I was able to leap over the counter, much less leap while swinging my fists, considering my broken collarbone. Now I need to figure out how to mop up all of this blood.
