"...por bibty," The guy behind the counter smells like curry.
I reach into my pocket and try to pull out my wallet but the pockets in these pants are too small for my hands. With my wallet, comes my pocket and all of the change in it, and coins spill all over the fucking floor. I just want a pack of cigarettes. I bend over trying not to look ridiculous while I attempt to pick up the change that occupies a six foot radius around my feet. The top of my head bumps into the guy's leg behind me. It's awkward.
"Excuse me,"