Its snow problem in Hotlanta

and here I am sitting at a booth, trying to have customers ignore me. "Stop looking at me," I said to a couple outside my booth at the Atlanta Cycle World Show. They laugh as if I am joking. "Please leave now," I say as they draw in closer. They somehow take this invitation to enter my booth and begin to ask questions about products and services. Argh!

My brain has gone numb and my mouth tastes of flat energy drink. Two Ducati woman stole the last of my gum and proceeded to trash my booth. The guy in the neighboring booth is searching his backpack for some Codine. These are desperate times and I am without a trashcan or hope.

Text messages have been sent and now I am just waiting for the pill to kick in. Today has been too much, beginning with the police being called on me for charging my rental car past security to avoid a line into the show. Dropping my friend off, I returned past the guard who had explained that Atlanta's finest are on the way. I drift the rear end of the Chevy HRR driving to a nearby car lot where a sign read "Lot Full." I drive up to the gate and tell the guy I need a spot and give him nine dollars that he pockets. He tells me to park behind a Honda. I park and walk past the guy at the gate.

I offer him a lemon poppy muffin, which he takes, and walk into the show as snow begins to flurry.
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