Your Impatience; Your Life.

A miniskid slides up to your boots.  You toss on your duffel and guitar kit and go back to rummaging around the passenger’s side floorboards to find the second of two dead batts you tossed there.  Perhaps you’re having trouble finding either of the batts because you’re thinking more about the security for the data-paq you’re couriering: obscurity, stealth, subterfuge, or strong-arm?  Or maybe it’s all the food wrappers, the rank and stale sports-bra, and the books getting in your way.

:Yes, there’s one!:

Normally you’d do the obscurity thing without a further thought.  It suits your personality and your wallet, but you’re thinking it over anyway.  Stealth’s too blown from your ride in.  Can’t motor in on a bitchin’ flit like this custom B’bridge and not expect people to notice.  You’re too frazzed after the long jump from [planet name here] to bother with the acting that goes along with subterfuge though you could go for some man burning sex-play.  Can’t have too many of those notches.  Maybe you’ll fit some of that in anyway.  That leaves armed guards and an impromptu parade through the core of Okkatu.  And endless waiting.

:Screw it.  Not waiting.  Not after that ride.:

You remove the data-paq from the skid’s safe and stuff it into a day bag with your floorboard trash and laundry.

:There’s the other batt.:

I thought I’d not yet written your deboarding in the hanger, but apparently I had.  Maybe I can slot this bit in before that one.

Day 276