The Stakeout

Birdie strolled into the 7-Eleven, cutting right to the back where the energy drinks, sodas, and juices were lined up. The mark went down the chip aisle. Birdie went the other way, grabbing Fritos. The mark turned left and Birdie turned right. In the candy aisle they both reached for Snickers. Birdie half-smiled and shrugged. The mark checked out and Birdie was just behind driving a matching Toyota Corolla. The mark lived on the fourth floor of a walk-up in Boys Town. Birdie parked at the top of the parking ramp across the street, trained his binoculars, watching the mark put away the groceries. Why, Birdie thought, keep Snickers bars in the fridge, they never lasted that long anyway. Birdie unpeeled the wrapper from his own Snickers, adding the wrapper to the growing pile on the passenger seat. Last week Birdie was raving to his partner about Snickers being the perfect stakeout snack. The mark moved out of view, then reappeared in the living room. Birdie watched the mark put a record on, It was Mel Torme. Impeccable taste. The mark’s guest appeared, wearing a green velvet wraparound dress. Birdie sighed in disappointment and started snapping pics. He always hoped for a better result; however, human relationships always got messy in the end.