He hated being told to wait in the car. It made him feel insignificant, and like the others were too embarrassed to be seen with him in public.
Charlie glanced up into the rear view mirror to check his reflection. He looked perfectly normal. No reason to think he’d be an embarrassment.
“Screw them!” he mumbled to himself and then turned on the radio.
His favorite Springsteen song was coming to an end, and Charlie enthusiastically sang along with the Boss.
Maybe waiting in the car wasn’t so bad after all. At least he got to listen to some tunes.
“That was Bruce Springsteen, and now it’s your chance to feel like a boss, too,” the deejay purred through the speakers as the song faded. “Caller number six gets front row tickets to the big concert this Friday night.”
Holy crap! Charlie had been dying to go to this show, but tickets had sold out before he even had a chance to try to buy them.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, checked to make sure the others weren’t coming, and quickly dialed the radio station’s number.
Charlie had horrible luck, but he never stopped trying. He kept telling himself that one of these days, the Fates would finally smile upon him.
Maybe this would be that day.
He checked for the others again as the phone rang.
Charlie’s eyes nearly bursts out of his skull. Somehow, he had the common sense to turn down the car radio before responding.
“This is Charlie,” he blurted out as his mouth suddenly went dry as he tried to form the words.
“And where are you calling from, Charlie?” the deejay queried.
“My car!” Charlie nearly screamed into the phone because he was so damn excited.
The deejay’s laughter rattled around in his ear for a good thirty seconds. Charlie didn’t care if the man was laughing at him or with him. All he wanted was the concert tickets.
“Well, Charlie from his car, you’ve just won two tickets to Friday’s concert! What’s the phrase that pays, my friend?”
“WRMP rocks my world!” Charlie definitely did scream this time as he pushed down on the car’s horn in celebration.
Every head on the street turned towards the car, but Charlie didn’t care. He was going to the concert. He was the big winner.
“Thank you!” Charlie sang into the phone as he did a happy dance in the driver’s seat.
At that moment, the doors opened and Charlie’s three friends got into the car.
They were still wearing the masks and carrying the guns they had used to rob the bank. Each man held a large black bag filled with cash.
“What the #$%^, Charlie? Drive!” demanded the masked friend in the front seat.
The friends in the backseat lowered the window and began to fire back in the direction of the bank.
“You guys will never believe what just happened,” Charlie turned to tell them. “I won two tickets to Friday night’s concert!”
“Who the #$%^ gives a %^&*, Charlie?” front seat friend hissed from behind his mask. “Get us the hell out of here.”
A bullet shattered the window behind his friend’s head, while more could be heard slamming into the side of the car.
“Fine,” Charlie mumbled angrily. “But I’m not taking you to the show with me.”