Thick brain fog clouds my mind when I haven’t had a sesh. But my mind is especially clouded without a strong morning coffee.

I usually only have regular instant coffee with no sugar. Two heaped teaspoons and Milk. But whenever I head out to Maccas or a cafe I almost always get a Mocha. It’s just one of those things I can never quite get right at home.

We ended up in a coffee shop outside the front of a small mall. I ordered my usual; a large Mocha with no sugar. Michael grabbed a cream of chicken pie, chicken kebab, chicken cordon Bleu, lasagne topper and a chicken roll. Finishing off his order with a big can on Blue Powerade.

“Together or seperate?” The cashier asked, as a woman beside her started making my coffee.

“Separate.” I said, bringing out my card.

“Can you grab mine as well bro?” asked Michael.

“Fuck off, you should be shouting me.” I replied, nudging him out of the way.

“I don’t have my phone.” Michael Explained, flicking his V can closer to the eftpos machine.

“Why would that matter?” I argued, swiping my card.

“I pay for everything using my phone.” He continued.

“Do you not have your card?” I asked.

“Nah, I lost it.” He stated.

“Shit man, you’d lose your dick if it wasn’t stuck on your body.” I replied. The cashier looked as though she tasted something sour.

“Your card declined.” The cashier stated, as the barista placed my coffee down on the counter.

“Have you at least cancelled your card?” I queried, picking up my coffee and walking away.

“Nah, because I won’t be able to pay on my phone.” Michael explained, leaving his food behind.

“Sir, you can’t take that coffee until you pay!” The cashier called out from behind the counter.

“Damn man you’re really cheap, you know that? To risk getting your savings cleared out over getting a new eftpos card…that’s really something.” I laughed, taking a sip from my coffee as I walked out the door.

“You’ve gotta learn to be frugal with your cash man.” Michael lectured, holding his stomach.

“Says the guy who tried ordering half the bakeries menu.” I laughed, “Suppose it doesn’t matter when it’s on someone else’s bank card aye.”

“It’s not that man. It’s just that I’m trying to save up for a house. The way I see it I’m already paying enough to cover a mortgage each week. All I really need is a deposit and I’ll be on my way.” Michael continued.

“A twenty dollar lunch isn’t really gonna make that much of a difference between you and 200K is it? It’s pretty unachievable.” I advised, sipping my coffee again.

We turned down an alleyway where the walls were covered in murals of vibrant graffiti and interesting characters. One piece that stuck out to me was the word Vanity scrawled across the side of a rubbish bin.

“Well I’ve got about 80k so far. I’d say there’s hope for me.” Michael debated, sidestepping a puddle of filth.

I stopped in my tracks. “You’ve got 80 grand and I’ve got barely enough to buy Milk?” I asked him, squeezing my coffee mug in frustration. Burning my palm and fingers with scorching coffee foam, “Jesus!”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Well I mean I don’t buy takeout. You know how it is.” Michael said, picking the coffee cup up from the pavement and tossing it in a dumpster.

“Don’t blame this on takeaways man. I might buy a bit of Uber eats; but I’m always sure to refund my orders most of the time.” I scoffed, fanning my hand in the cool air.

“Buying takeout full stop is deemed reckless spending.” Michael laughed, folding his arms.

“Oh yeah? And what would you call spending two hundred bucks at the pub last night? A business expense?” I said with a sour taste in my mouth.

“Again, that was a one time thing. Believe me, if you were in charge of my finances this company would have sunk a long time ago.” Michael argued, clutching his stomach.

A kitchen boy in a stained apron exited an alley door with a large pot of soup.

“Excuse me sir!” Michael asked.

“Yeah?’ The young man asked, making his way towards a waste bin.

“Can I have some of that soup…and can I also borrow your phone?” He asked with a thin grin.

The kitchen hand pulled a face, but allowed Michael to scoop a handful of soup with his grubby hands before binning the rest.

I googled the towing company on the Kitchen hands phone while Michael ate his sub par breakfast.

“Might’ve been a good call to ask why they’re throwing it out.” I thought to myself, watching him feast.

I called the number the towing page provided but unfortunately there was no answer.

“Have you got a pen?” I asked the kitchen hand, while still holding his phone.

He rolled his eyes and tossed me a bic pen from his chest pocket. I searched online results for a logo that seemed fitting of the logo I recollected last night.

A company named ‘Mighty Tow’ stuck out, and it was located in Avondale. I began to jot down the address while Michael wiped his hands down on the alleys brick wall and the kitchen hand tapped his foot.

“Tow companies in Avondale.” I relayed to Michael.

“Avondale…that’s where Charlie stays, isn’t it?” asked Michael, rubbing his sticky hands on his filthy shorts.

“Last time I checked.” I confirmed.

“Have we got money for the bus?” Michael asked, hunching over holding his stomach.

“I’m not sure, I’ll have to check an ATM. It shouldn’t be too much for a bus, right?” I replied.

We carried on along the alleyway until we reached the lower street level of the Malls Car Park. On the side of the Mall entrance was a bank ATM.

We approached it and I stuck my card in. I dialled in my pin, but all I got was an error message. Next thing I knew my card was sucked into the machine and we were left broke and stranded.

“Did that really just fucking happen?” Mike blurted.

“You’re fuckin joking! No!!” I cried, banging on the machine's edges.

Suddenly the face of the machine felt to the ground below. Beneath the ATM cover was a genuine ATM machine, in perfect working order.

“Shit man, we’ve been scammed!!” I shrilled.

“Better you than me buddy, I have eighty racks in my bank.” Michael stated, hands on hips.

“Well it doesn’t look like you’ll be getting to those 80 bands any time soon, we’ve just lost our tickets over to Massey.” I scorned him.

I then pointed at the back of the card scanner that was attached to the false ATM cover, “Why don’t we just smash that little thing open?”

Michael folded his arms. “It’s probably too late, there’s bound to be some sort of hacker sitting in a minivan somewhere–“

I sunk my booted heel into the back of the ATM scanner. But the scanner remained unharmed.

“You’re full of ideas aren’t you Percy?” He laughed.

“It’s not working.” I confirmed, picking up the ATM cover shell and dropping it onto the footpath.

“Don’t do that ya fuckin’ slow cunt, the cops will get called on us.” He warned, leading me towards the bus stop, “We’re gonna have to do things the old fashioned way.”

We walked across to the Malls outdoor bus stop and Michael approached an older woman with thick glasses that magnified her eyes.

“Hey there miss, just wondering if you had a couple bucks we could borrow for the bus?” Michael asked with his most honest smile.

“Sorry I only have eftpos.” She replied, turning away and clutching her purse.

The bus station was crowded yet our ability to obtain wealth had proven unfruitful.

We’d been standing here through six bus cycles; and with each cycle I wondered just how much ground we could have covered on a foot march to Avondale.

“I don’t think buses accept cash anymore, cuz.” said a man with a neck tat, guarding a nest of grocery bags.

“Oh true? Since when?” I asked.

“Since Covid.” The neck tat replied,

An old man thumped down his detective paperback, “That’s just what ol’ horse face wants! A cashless society. They chipped everyone with a vaccine and poisoned our bush with 1080! Run while you can Is what I say!”

“Do they only accept bus cards now?” I asked the neck tat owner.

“Yeah, pretty much.” he stated, twisting the lid off of a smoothie bottle and taking a glug.

The next bus pulled up and passengers began to hop aboard.

“Where are you guys off to?” the smoothie glugging neck tat owner asked.

“Avondale.” answered Michael.

“Tell you what; if you can run into a house for me there and grab something for me I’ll pay for your ticket.” the smoothie savourer offered.

I frowned, “Why exactly does he need us?” I thought.

Yet my legs ached and my head thumped, all I wanted to do was crawl back into my bed.

“What’s the thing?” asked Michael.

“Just some tools.” the man replied, finishing off his smoothie and picking up his bags of groceries. “Keen?” he offered finally.

We both thought for a moment as the man made his way towards the buses door.

“Yeah, alright man, sounds good.” Michael accepted, following after him.