After the Geek Prom

I pull into the nearly empty parking lot of the QFC and swing the car around to point at the exit for a quick get-away. I take a five-spot out of my wallet and hand it to theother-ryano, and he saunters into the store.

“What are we doing here?” asks drowningweasel's friend who is driving the car that has been tailing me down the twisty hill.
“We got a call: we have to get toilet paper.” flamingweasel opens the trunk and tries to cushion the bottles of Matrimonial ESB from the rest of the curvy road with his and joyquality's overnight bags. When he's done, he steps away from the car and looks as if he wished he had a cigarette. I sneak up behind and give him a sudden hug.
“It's done, you're married!”
“I still think I'm forgetting something.” theother-ryano strides back across the parking lot, swinging a crinkly plastic bag, “Everyone was looking funny at me as I stood in the express line in my suit holding tee-pee.” We get in the car, and I drive east through the rest of the hills, through downtown, and across the Burnside Bridge.
“Did you leave food out for Ada?”
“Damn. We need to stop by the apartment.”
Now I lead our tailing vehicle south and east and around. As we pass in front of the Basement Pub, two cats are starring each other down in the middle of the street. They circle like samurai, oblivious to the light rain, oblivious to the cars. I would like to stop in the middle of the street and watch them, maybe book wagers.
I pull to the curb. flamingweasel jumps out and heads into the apartment. I step out and walk back to speak to our tail. “What I didn't mention about the toilet paper is that it is for the cat.” flamingweasel returns to the car, so I start up and pull out from the curb. I was expecting a bit of blocking from my wingman, but drowningweasel's friend is not on the ball. As I pull out, some guy driving slowly and safely noticed that I appeared in front of him, and he lays on the horn.
“And fuck you.” theother-ryano says. “Drive slowly now.”
“As long as he doesn't run over the tin cans dangling from the bumper, it's festive and celebratory.”