Chapter 8

We got to the parking lot, and I threw the cardboard check into the backseat. I sat, then, with my hands on the wheel, and realized I had no idea what I was going to do next. I looked over at Dino, and I shrugged.

"So ... we did that. Now what?"

"Shit if I know, man! You're fucking rich! You can do whatever you want. I'm just along for the ride."

"Seriously ... I have no idea what to do now."

"Well, what do you feel like doing most, right now?"

"Right now?"

"And a Large Coke, please. Oh, and add on a couple of those cinnamon apple things to that?"

The speaker crackled its acknowledgement, and I pulled forward to rest behind an idling station wagon.

"Gotta hand it to you, man. You sure know how to party."

"Whatever. I was hungry. And I'm not exactly dressed for anything extravagant here. And not to burst your bubble, Fabio, but neither are you."

"But still, dude ... Tacos?"

"Hey, I'm paying, aren't I?"

"Damn straight you are."

We ate as we drove, and there was relative silence. My brain seemed to be stuck in neutral. I couldn't possibly think what I wanted to do next. It was around 2 in the afternoon, and I had nowhere to be until the next morning, when I was supposed to be back at work. I now had all this supposed freedom, and all I could think was how good it would feel to get a nice hot shower, now that my stomach was full.

"Where are we going, man?"

"Honestly? I'm thinking I might want to head home and get a shower..."

"WHAT? Dude ... you're fucking rich, and that's the first thing you can think of? Man, you could do anything you wanted!"

"Yeah, I know ... but I feel fucking gross and all I want to do is get clean. Then maybe I'll think of something, but what?"

"Dude ... you could go car shopping. You could go HOUSE shopping, for fuck's sake. You could just go to the mall and buy everything that caught your eye. You could go downtown, find the finest chick in sight and offer her a million bucks to blow you!"

"I'm sure the cops would love that."

"You get my point, though. Man, the world is fucking YOURS! And you can't come up with any ideas?"

"Maybe after my shower..."

"Shit..." Dino muttered as he turned to look out the window.

I turned on the radio and we channel surfed on the drive back to my place. My mind wandered, but nothing sounded particularly good. I liked my car, though I didn't LOVE it. So car shopping seemed somewhat so-so to me. House shopping scared me. I was determined not to spend a huge chunk of my money at once like that, certainly not in the first afternoon I had it. Shopping at the mall? Not exactly my style. And the blowjob ... well, that did sound nice, but propositioning people on the street was an excellent way to end up in a cell that night.

But that led my wandering mind to another thought ... how did rich people get laid? You always see people on the news and on the entertainment channels talking about how they have to beat off the money-grubbing women with sticks. Well ... I wouldn't mind sharing a small slice of my newfound wealth with some smoking hot woman ... but how did you come by them? Was there some 1-800 number or something that you were supposed to call once you made your first million? I supposed I could get all decked out in some new suit (I hate suits), and a top of the line flashy SUV, and go hit some nightclubs. But that seemed like an awful lot of time and trouble for some pussy. I could also go to some strip club and tip a dancer a grand or so and she'd probably melt for me. But ... that's not exactly what I was looking for.

The truth is that I didn't know what the hell I wanted to do. I was still reeling from the 'freedom' from my marriage. And now this on top of that? Good lord. I started to methodically work my way through my situation. I was living, rent-free, at my parents' house, for now. So no rent payment to make. I had my car payment, which I was caught up on, and my car was sensible, small, and a little sporty. It worked for me, for now. I was sure I would replace it someday, probably soon, but there was no urgency there. Then it struck me.

"Dude ... I know what I wanna do first."

Dean grinned and turned to me.

"Now THAT'S what I'm talking about. Where are we headed?"

"Home, still. This is absolutely going to be a blast."

"Hell yeah, man..."

Dino was less than thrilled with my plan. As I got my shower I did a mental inventory, then got dressed and headed for the dining room table. Dino was sitting there, leaned back and staring at the ceiling, a picture of boredom. I pulled out my phone and sat down. From a knick-knack shelf I pulled out my mom's legal pad and a pen, and I started to dial. I listened for a moment, then pressed "0". After a moment of almost inaudible tones, a voice answered.

"Thank you for calling Chrissler Financial. How may I help you?"

"Yes, I'm calling to pay off my car loan ... is that something you can help me with?"