Frito pie girl
"What's the other name for Frito pie?" she asked from behind the counter at the Citgo station on the way to the beach.
There's another name?
"Oh, sure. You know, for Frito paaaaaaaah."
She had a ponytail and two little plastic clips holding back the sides of her bangs.
"What day is it?" she asked. "I lose track of what day it is when I work here."
I can imagine.
A guy in a gimme cap was unloading a stack of the local weekly paper's latest edition. He dumped them on the end of the counter and picked up the stack of last week's leftovers.
"Naw, what day is it?" she asked again.
"It has to be Thursday," said the newspaper guy.
"How come?" she said.
"Because I'm here," he said.
"I'm really in the mood for Frito pie," she said. "Or whatever you call it."