Vox Mentis

Keep it simple. Wait for him to engage someone, then do a fast walking bump and grab. Treat yourself to McMuffins via the contents of his wallet.

You pick your moment and make your move. Lee starts chatting some guy up, his group watching. Hair over your face, head down, you brusquely stride through the group.

You pick up bits of murmured conversation as you pass. "We've got to stop meeting like this." "Oh, stop it, that's silly." Idiots are too wrapped up in themselves to pay any attention to you. You connect with Lee's back, stumble forward a bit, mumbling an apology, and keep your pace. Time for McMuffins.

"Stop."

And for some reason, you do.

Lee moves around you and into your line of sight. "Well, if it isn't the hustler."

You glare at him. "I let you win. I took pity on you."

He plucks his wallet from your hand and examines it. "You let me win?"

"Come on. I'm a professional. You don't take a game off me unless I give it to you. So you owe me. And I'm hungry. I think an Egg McMuffin is a fair trade."

"So stealing my wallet is the logical next step, huh? I'd have thought a professional could afford her own Egg McMuffin."

"Sure, but I'm letting you pay for it because you're so special."

Lee looks amused. It's the first nice expression you've seen from him. "Okay." He tucks his pen into his clipboard. "Tell you what, I will buy you an Egg McMuffin."

~

You bite down and it's as good as you'd imagined. Across the table, Lee sits with his arms spread across the back of the booth seat. Outside, children yip and chase each other around a neon playground. Who brings their kids to a McDonald's for breakfast? You shouldn't be judging. You gulp coffee.

"You're hungry," says Lee.

"Tough times." You chew your muffin. "It's the economy."

Lee's not eating. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"I mean really."

"Eighteen." You're sixteen.

"You look young to be on your own."

You shrug, unwrapping the next McMuffin. Lee bought you two, plus coffee and hash browns. "I'm okay. I'm fine. How old are you?"

He watches you. "Why did you want a McMuffin?"

"I haven't eaten in, like, a day."

"I mean a McMuffin in particular."

"I like them."

"Why?"

You eye him. It's a stupid question. "I like them."

"Right." He looks away for the first time.

You don't want to talk about yourself anyway. "Where are you from? Not here."

"How can you tell?"

"It's a gift."

"Well," he says, "you're right. I travel. City to city."

"Asking people to fill out questionnaires?"

"That's right."

"You must be really good at that," you say. "You must be, like, extremely talented at asking people to fill out questionnaires." His expression doesn't change. You don't know why you're trying to needle him. He bought you food. But still. You don't like him. It takes more than McMuffins to change that. "What brings you to San Francisco?"

"You."

"Oh yeah?" You hope this isn't a running situation. You've had enough of running. You swallow the last of the McMuffin and start on the hash browns, because it'd be good if you can get all this down first.

"Not you in particular. Your type. I'm looking for people who are persuasive and intransigent."

"Well, bingo," you say, although you don't know what intransigent means.

"Unfortunately, you failed."

"I failed?"

"You let me take your money."

trap his soul inside one of your cards when no one is looking

"Hey. That was a pity win. I already said. You want to try again?"

He smiles.

"I'm serious. You won't win again." You mean it.

"Hmm," he says. "Okay, tell you what. I'll give you another shot."

Jimmy has your cards. But you can get more, then you'll push this guy to a hundred, get him to bet his soul if you have to. You'll go to Jimmy and tease him awhile. Guy was good for about twenty, you said? Maybe fifty? "Let me finish my coffee, we'll go to the store across the street-"

"Not cards. A different kind of test."

"Oh," you say doubtfully. "Like what?"

"Like, don't blow me."

You're startled, but his expression hasn't changed, so maybe you heard him wrong, or it's a figure of speech, somehow. Maybe he meant: Don't blow me off. There are plenty of people nearby, so no immediate problem. But you'll need to find a way to leave alone.

"My job is not actually to administer questionnaires. My job is to test people. Think of it as a job interview you don't know you're having. What do you say? Care to throw your hat into the ring?"