They pulled up to my window. Their van was piled with fishing nets. I couldn’t see their license plate in the dark. The vehicle windows were tinted, so I couldn’t see inside either.
One of the back windows rolled down slowly, and a mid-twenties woman leaned out. She wore fishing waders, which resemble overalls made with insulated raincoat material. Her hair was piled messily on top of her head and she had dark bags under her eyes,
“Whoo, you’re cute. Can we get through?” She leaned her arm lazily over the window and handed me five bucks.
I shook my head and motioned to the sign below my window. “I’m sorry ma’am, these are the prices. I can’t let you guys go. I just want to keep my job.”
She threw her head back and moaned, “She’s not gonna let us go.”
Her homies in the backseat snickered. I shook my head again.
The driver sighed and handed me the correct bills, “Here you go, mama.”
I began printing off their parking pass.
One of the dudes in the backseat turned to me, “Hey, do you smoke?” His ballcap bumped into the girl next to him as he shuffled around in his bag.
“Ah, no…” I leaned against the window, which caused it to close a bit.
“Do you drink?”
“No…” My face flushed a bit as I leaned against the window a bit more.
He kept shuffling around in his bag. Finally, he straightened up with what he’d been looking for. He opened the small baggie and leaned it over to me.
I laughed this time, while still leaning against the window. I shook my head and grinned, “I promise I don’t smoke.”
His seatmates laughed at him. He rolled his eyes at me with a lopsided grin, “I coulda sworn you look like someone who smokes.”
“Nope…” I laughed again and opened the gate for them to go.
“Bye now!” They all waved and hooted at me as they sped off toward the beach.
I sat back on my stool in the two AM darkness of the fishing shack.
I decided maybe I’d pull out a mirror and put some of that eye-puffiness gel under my eyes.