Hot Coffee Vol. 1

Paul was sitting in front of a gas station behind the wheel of his lavender-metallic 1990 Lexus LS400. The assassin tried to figure out how he would dispose of a dead body, which he placed in the trunk of his sedan.

It was ten o’clock in the morning, and right now Paul was getting ready to get out of his car to grab a cup of coffee. He had a slight hangover, and he needed something to wake him up. He was sitting inside his car, listening to Dr. Dre and Eminem, and trying to decide on the right time to get his latte.

Paul hated crowded public places. He didn’t want to get out of his car to get his coffee because of all the people he saw marching in and out of the convenience store. Paul wanted his coffee, so he tried to ignore dealing with a store full of customers. As Paul sat in his car watching people walk in and out of the gas station, he could feel a female presence lurking inside him. He couldn’t stop the presence from taking over his voice.

“You moron!” The voice of Christina abruptly came forth out of Paul’s mouth. “What’s the matter, moron? You’re too scared to get a cup of coffee?” Christina teased Paul. The female alter-ego’s voice wreaked of animosity and sarcasm.

“I’ll get my coffee, bitch. In the meantime, why don’t you try shutting the hell up,” Paul whipped back at Christina after taking a puff off his cigarette.

“You’re an assassin who’s too afraid to get a cup of coffee. That’s hilarious.” Christina giggled a little.

“Shut up!” Paul came in quick on Christina. “Maybe I should get my gun out of the glove compartment and shoot myself in the mouth. At least I’ll shut you up.” Paul threatened Christina, hoping his threat would stop her from talking, but it didn’t work.

“You killed a mother, and you put her body in the trunk of your f#cking car! Nancy was a mom like me. Now her baby has to grow up without his mom because you killed her!” Christina’s mouth was on fire and she wanted to burn Paul with her rebuking words. “How can you live with yourself? How can you live knowing that a little boy will wonder why his mom disappeared one night? Nancy’s child will live out the rest of his life without his mom. Eventually, the poor baby will find out how you killed his mother!”

“Yeah, who gives a f#ck!” Paul roared suddenly, cutting off Christina’s ranting. “Listen to me, I want you to shut the hell up or I’m going to get my gun out of the glove compartment and shoot myself in the head. I’ll shoot us in the head if you don’t stop talking. You hear me, bitch!?” There was an intense silence after Paul threatened Christina again. Paul thought Christina had gone away after he threatened her. He waited to hear Christina speak, and a minute went past before she gave her last word.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Christina spoke again through her soft tone of voice. “I want you to blow your f#cking brains out! I don’t care if you kill us! They’ll be one less motherf#cker in the world!” Christina gave her last word to Paul. The young woman’s sweet and strong voice disappeared like a sunset.

Paul became relieved after he felt Christina’s presence depart from him. It felt like a demon possession whenever Christina would arrive. Paul knew his female alter ego would return, and he didn’t want to think about his next confrontation with her. It only took a minute for Paul to step out of his Lexus. The hitman stepped out of his car while cracking his knuckles, which was something he did whenever he would get irritated about something. The arguments he would have with Christina would irritate him every single time. Walking into a convenience store full of customers also added to Paul’s anxiety.

After adjusting the collar of his black suit jacket, the transgender hitman shut the door of his car behind him. He used his pierced tongue to put out his lit cigarette before flicking it down on the ground.

Paul loved putting his cigarette butts out on his tongue ring. He enjoyed the pain. Paul wished he could kill someone now. While he was walking toward the convenience store’s front entrance, he fantasized about killing every man and woman customer inside the store. Paul’s hangover caused him to become extra bloodthirsty.

*Please tell me that this gentleman didn’t just spill coffee all over my brand new suit*. Paul thought in his head as he looked down at the huge coffee stain that covered the whole front part of his black suit jacket. Paul tried to be nice by holding the door open for an elderly man. After holding the door open for the old man, Paul made his way into the convenience store, running straight into a young man who was holding two cups of Starbucks vanilla iced lattes.

“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry!” The man almost went into a panic as he apologized to Paul. The man’s name was Gregg, and Gregg tried to use a wad of paper napkins he had in his other hand to see if he could wipe off the coffee on Paul’s suit jacket.

“It’s okay. It was an accident, don’t worry about it,” Paul told Gregg through his soft-spoken voice and his warm Texas drawl. He gave the man a gentle smile. Paul studied Gregg’s bright red beard and his military crew cut. He studied the man’s eyeglasses and a tattoo on the man’s left arm that said, I love my wife and daughter.

“Please forgive me for being such an idiot and not watching where I was going. Your suit looked so nice on you and I ruined it.” Gregg was rubbing on Paul’s shoulder and he almost sounded like he was getting ready to cry. The man scrubbed and rubbed all over Paul’s suit jacket like a mother washing her child in a bathtub. Gregg felt  embarrassed, and he still couldn’t believe he was such a klutz.

“I told you it’s okay. I have plenty of these suits at home,” Paul told Gregg, trying to calm him down.

“What happened, Daddy?” A little girl’s voice appeared out of nowhere, right behind Paul. Paul turned and looked down to see a curly red-haired and blue-eyed little doll who looked like she was a five-year-old miniature supermodel.

“Daddy made a mess, honey. He spilled coffee all over this poor man’s clothes,” Gregg told his little girl who came and stood beside him while looking up at Paul and sucking on her tiny fingers.

Paul smiled down at the little girl and he watched as the little girl smiled back at him. While gazing down at the child, Paul could feel Christina’s maternal instincts trying to kick in. He could feel Christina wanting to hold the little girl in her arms, but he ignored his female alter-ego’s motherly desires.

“I’m so glad I didn’t spill hot coffee on you. I’ve got to watch where I’m going next time.” Gregg’s voice was full of guilt, even though he was laughing. “I’m so sorry. I feel like I’ve ruined your day. I came here to get coffee for me and my wife and I ended up spilling coffee all over you.” Gregg put his hand up to his forehead, feeling ashamed for what he did. The kind-hearted man reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“You don’t have to do that.” Paul stopped Gregg from pulling out a one-hundred-dollar bill. He pushed the money away when Gregg tried to hand it to him.

“Please let me give you this. I ruined your jacket and giving you this money will make me feel a little better,” Gregg told Paul while still trying to force a hundred-dollar bill into the killer’s hand.

“I don’t want your money. Instead, why not let me buy you more coffee?” Paul’s voice was full of warmth and gentleness. The killer wanted to offer a nice service to Gregg. He tried to ignore feeling enraged over the fact that Gregg ruined his black tailor-made suit.

“You’re gonna buy me and my wife more coffee after I spilled coffee all over you? My God, you’re so kind,” Gregg told Paul while resting his hand on the man’s arm.

“Let me go buy you more vanilla iced lattes. That is the coffee you had, right?” Paul asked, feeling uncomfortable over Gregg’s hand caressing his arm.

“Yes, that’s right. That’s the coffee I had.” Gregg giggled while answering Paul and giving the killer a soft gaze. “I appreciate you buying me more coffee. You’re so nice for doing this,” Gregg told Paul while still caressing the assassin’s arm. Gregg bent down to pick up his daughter while watching Paul turn and walk toward the mini Starbucks cafe, which was over on the far left side of the convenience store. “You see that, honey? Now that’s a nice guy. He’s buying your mommy and daddy more coffee,” Gregg whispered to his daughter while pointing across the way at Paul.

“He’s a nice guy like Daddy.” Gregg’s daughter, Samantha, mumbled through her little, soft voice. The child giggled while making herself comfortable in her daddy’s arms. The child waved at Paul, who was waving back at Samantha and her father near the Starbucks service counter.