Greek Magic

“Can you do this?”

I look up from Howard Zinn’s plead for a well-rounded understanding or US history, to a woman holding an orangina and a set of keys, asking for Greek magic. I assumed she wanted me to pop the top off, but I shrugged with my shoulders and eyes to signify a.) No can do. b.) I’m reading, thanks.

“We need some kind of frat boy, he’d know,” the woman said to her son.

She began to tap it, like a helpless attempt at sparking fire with twigs, ’til a nice man handed over his key-chain bottle opener. The woman snatched it like a life-line and gave her son some citrus refreshment on a shitty humid day. Subway hospitality saves the day.