location: merch stand @ E.T. fest. open to: vampire money folk + anyone else @roswellstarters
“how much is that? fifteen?” archie asked, attempting to haggle down the price of a band shirt ( to little success ). a clipped response of ‘twenty’ was thrown in his general direction by the white guy with dreads and neck tattoos, perched on a deck chair behind the merch stand. archie patted down the pockets of his palm tree swimming trunks — he could’ve sworn his wallet was in them a second ago. turning helplessly to the patron behind him in the queue, archie began to plea, a new standard of desperation even for him. “dude, i know this sounds super shady, but i promise i’ve been queuing up to get a tame impala shirt for like… nearly forty minutes and now my wallet’s vanished.” it was more like twenty minutes, but what was a little hyperbole now and then when you’d been robbed in the broad daylight of afternoon sun? “do me a solid and lend me twenty dollars? i mean, it’s kinda in your best interests. you’re behind me in the queue, and until i move, you can’t move. and i’m not leaving without that shirt.”