“I wonder why you always smell things you hate when you are about to have a migraine,” Fritz pondered as he looked up at the sky that was void of stars.

“Must be some karmic thing,” Zooey said, shrugging off the idea, “Where do you suppose we could find really tacky coffee mugs at this hour?”

“Well, we are kind of close to the bay, and those touristy places are open fairly late…that stuff is more kitschy than your red and white checkered table cloth and those ridiculous corn on the cob holders we never use,” Fritz said with a laugh.

“Ooh,” Zooey smirked, “I love gawking at tourists, maybe that’s why I smell those revolting corn dogs.” They continued along the crowded sidewalks full of nightclubbers shrouded in ciggarette smoke and from time to time would bump into determined drag queens on their way to the shiny bars on the north side.

“I wish one of them would adopt me,” Zooey said hopefully as she looked back at the throng of vibrantly dressed characters.