• Wayne Koziatek


“Double tall dry cappuccino, and let’s make it faster than last time,” I say slapping the exact change on the counter. Rushing from the register I make my way towards the hand off expecting to see my drink as I hear someone call for me. “Sir! You’re actually a dollar short,” the boy at the register says. “Excuse me? I order this drink every week, I know the price!” “I know sir, but you only placed two dollars and forty-seven cents on the counter.” Rushing back to the register, I see the dollar sitting on the counter prominently displayed behind the cup display for the holiday seasons. “Are you kidding me? Open your eyes it’s right here!” I yell at the incompetent cashier, “I’ve got places to be!” “I’m sorry sir I couldn’t see that from here, have a nice day.” I run to the end of the bar and snatch my drink to make sure it’s correct. Wrong again… I know I’m behind schedule so I rush to my car and get in. 2014 Mercedes C63, with every package they had at the dealer. I had to work Christmas for the bonus, but it was worth it. Oh God 9:47 I’m going to miss it. I slam on the gas and race down the roads, green trees and bright red stop signs left in the dust. I can’t miss this again, this is the last day. 9:53 I’m almost there. I can see the field, finally I made it in time. I park my car next to some beat up minivan and run to the stands. Three minutes left in the warm up before the game. Why are both teams on one side of the field…Geez these refs got here early! The players begin to walk off the field and I smile and wave to my son, my expensive watch glistening in the sun. A gift I got from my boss for being an outstanding employee. Why is he frowning? What’s wrong with my son? Why is everyone getting up? Shit. I look closer at the scoreboard, 5-2, they lost. Dropping my double tall dry cappuccino I run down to my son. I glance at my watch 10:01, I check my phone, “Chris’ game, 8am start.” Why did I think it was 10? Chris looks up at me still on the second row of the bleachers and a huge smile spreads across his face. “Dad! Dad you made it!” he yells up at me, waving frantically. “Ya son, I sure did.”

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