By: Connor Pohlman, Creative Corner & Opinion Editor
“Let me get this straight: you’ve known about this place the whole time? Wouldn’t be the first thing you’ve kept from me.”
“As I hold the door open for you. You and everyone else in this world,” Green murmured. “No wonder society is goin’ to hell.”
Red walked into the diner that, by its appearance, was built in 1950 and became frozen in time after that. The white structure checkered with red diamonds emitted a lowly transmission of Elvis’s “Suspicious Minds” serenading the mostly elderly patrons. Green followed in after Red, fixing the flaps on his tight black suit and pulling his tie looser. Red reached for the lighter in his pocket, but Green reached his hand back to stop him, much to Red’s disdain. Red crossed his arms over his chest and observed Green’s shoes, a shrewd expression appearing on his face. Green caught a glimpse of him and frustratingly shrugged his shoulders, placing his hands on his hips and becoming animated.
“What?” Green asked, clearly annoyed, his lips closing themselves to restrain him. “What is it this time, huh?”
“Nothing, just don’t like that pair very much. Tips are too pointy,” Red said, turning his attention to the menu above the counter, with items and prices listed in single black lettering. The two abruptly moved out of the way as the diner door dinged open and a man walked by but returned to their confrontational places immediately.
“Why you gotta rip on my shoes, huh? They’re from my sister. My sister got ‘em for me, c’mon now,” Green said. The man looked uniquely stout next to Red, who was tall.
“You sure your sister loves you?” Red asked with snark. Green furrowed his brow.
“Wedding gift,” he replied, turning towards the counter also. A woman in her upper 50s dressed in a white polo shirt and skirt, a black apron covering most of her lower half, leaned across a silver tabletop scuffed with old milkshake stains. Her body language told them that she was in no rush at all, and her disinterested eyes encouraged their delay.
“So why’d he give you Green? I don’t even like Red, too brooding. You weren’t gonna catch me whining though, not after he waved that wad of cash in my face, no sir-ee,” Red finished.
“Because you reminded him of a rose,” Green said. Red’s lower lip pushed up above his top, nodding his head and being somewhat satisfied with the reasoning. “A real thorn in his side,” Green finished the joke before laughing like a troll under the bridge. Red’s expression turned grim, and his face became the color of his title.
“Why do you gotta be such a hot head?” Green said, patting Red on the side of his chest quickly. “Aw, come on, I’m just busting your chops, settle down.”
“You know, I’ve put up with you this entire time, but I’ve had enough, alright? Enough of you,” Red said, turning his broad shoulders towards him.
“Me? Me?! You’ve been on my case the moment the boss put us together! You’re the reason we’re even here in the first place!” Green said, signaling to their surroundings. His clamoring went on, with Red reaching his hands into his pockets, promptly ignoring the squabbles of Green. Red patted the pockets of both his pants and jacket, his face becoming stern and sour.
*Catch Episode II of “Admix” in next week’s edition.*