“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone driving with that many dogs in their backseat. There really had to be, what, five, six heads sticking out of that truck’s window?”
“Must be nice.”
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“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone driving with that many dogs in their backseat. There really had to be, what, five, six heads sticking out of that truck’s window?”
“Must be nice.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry too much about Mr. Skylar. I know it’s only still... 7 PM, but this isn’t his first time needing breathalyzer before ten.” The laughing, older man scrambles out the front door with his basket of fries, Terry helpfully trailing behind him.
“He’ll be all right. I’d give him a ride back if he needed it, but he lives right around the corner.”