Overheard while taking a walk

It's my last night working the job that's been my bread and butter for nearly six years. I took a moment, fittingly, to walk over to the harbour at sunset, but there wasn't much of one to speak of.

On the way back, strapped for caffeine now in the form of my monster venti Americano, I passed one of the upscale highrises to find two young girls shouting into the building's intercom. These are cute little bouncy brunette white girls on Razor scooters with little short skirts and cute jackets, around 9 years old.

"Would somebody want to buy an apple?"

Confused silence. Intercom crackles, buzzes, and snaps. "What?"

Girl, shouting louder & faster: "Would somebody want to buy an apple?"

Girl's friend, laughing and yelling: "Or two!"

Silence again. Crackle, buzz, snap. "What in the Sam Hill are you people talking about? Jumpin'--"

Girl shouts: "Apples!"

Silence. "I gotta move. Goddamn junkies." [CLICK]

Yep. Love this hood. The speaker, if you can't imagine it, has all the clarity of the McDonald's drive-thru intercom, which is to say about as much clarity as you'd have after a six-day crack-shooting binge. Girl #1 mutters, "Oh, well." I hear a buzzing-beeping amalgam and know they're trying again, attempting to buzz yet another suite.

Cute kids, but I really wanted to say something to the effect of "flogging a dead horse" but their sunshiney effervescence deserves to be shattered into endless shards on its lonesome, via fate's innate cruelty.

So, I simply walked on, laughed boisterously, sniggered, and enjoyed the moment, wondering how overpriced the apples are, anyhow.

And this is the first and only time I will have ever blogged from this job. Can't really go out all upstanding like, now, can I?