Josh watches, shocked and amused.
The woman flicks Alice the middle finger, studded with a cheap fifty-cent toy ring from the lobby’s vending machine. “You should be ashamed of yourself; acting very unprofessional. And you should be embarrassed with that ridiculous hair.” She turns and waddles away like a penguin lost from its pack. At the entrance doors, thirty feet from the box office, the woman sends Alice one final salvo of assaults, loud enough for the disconcerted patrons watching in line to hear. “By the way, I’ll be filing a customer complaint…ma’am!”
Merry fucking Christmas to you too, Josh wants to yell back. But he stays as mute as a mime. He starts laughing, until his stomach hurts and tears fall down his cheeks. Excusing himself from box office, he says to the manager as he slips out into the lobby, “Restroom check!”