small Ethan

    Ethan knew he had made a mistake when the hot mayonnaise spurted out all over his new shirt. "God damn it," he said, setting the cheese melt sandwich next to the checker fries, "why is everything I do a mistake?" He couldn't help thinking about that stupid painting he bought for a small fortune and ended up hating and drenching in coffee. And then there was that horrible breakup with Linda the other month.
    Sighing, he pulled a little plastic bag full of pills out of his coat pocket. "You're my little saviors, aren't you?" he said to a glossy pink sphere before drowning it in a mouthful of chocolate milk.
    "Excuse me," said a man wearing glasses and a vest, "I couldn't help but notice those little pink pills you take. I take the same ones myself." He grinned and pulled the edge of his own little sandwich bag from his vest pocket. Shit, Ethan thought to himself. Some lonely weird guy who just wants a pal, and I'm too nice to ignore him.