Sweet Tea

James flashed his biggest fake grin at the people that swarmed through the aisles. He tried not to cringe as sticky, sweaty hands pawed at the cards and left dirty fingerprints on the glossy surfaces. It made him mad that these people didn’t respect the cards. Even if they were just the cheap ones, they still represented dreams and goals.

He was convinced that Miller put him near the concession stand on purpose. James suspected that Miller asked the food venders to sell cotton candy and chili fries, just so his cards would be ruined. He may have even scheduled the convention in the South just to spite James. Or, it could just be that James hadn’t had any tea all week and he was cranky from caffeine withdrawal. Anything was possible.

Even more than the humidity in the South, James hated that disgusting, syrupy concoction that the locals called tea. He searched every restaurant and coffee shop in town with no luck. Not a single one carried unsweetened tea on the menu. He tried to bribe the owner of the diner across the street to make some up, just for the week. The woman shot him a look that was a cross between amusement and disbelief. She chuckled at him from behind her cigarette and walked off to pour another round of coffee for the morning crowd. James began to wonder if tea leaves were shipped to the South with the sugar already mixed in.