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unattractive women as they stood in line to get the latest in Apple
computers' signature line of Electronic Sunglass Products (ESPs).
Forty percent of the people in line were wearing the previous (and
now obsolete) model, the Apple ESP i4 Superglass. Danger was one of
that forty percent, even though the line was indoors. His personal
sunglass policy had no accounting for light levels.
    This i5 had an updated style, an
auto-darkening feature, and weighed one full ounce less than the i4
model. Needless to say, those in that line needed the i5 to feel
like they were living life properly. Danger was compelled to make
sure he got whatever his Danger mind thought to desire. In that
mind, he was a rabid Alpha wolf scouring the plains for mates and
shiny things and yummy antelopes. If he ever met an actual wolf
with actual rabies, he would see immediately how misguided that
idea was. But he never really went into the woods, so the
misguidedness stayed hidden and intact.
    The best part of sunglasses was that nobody
could tell where you were looking. Danger used this to his
advantage, keeping his head straight and darting his eyes like a
laser pointer at whatever T or A came into his radar screen. Since
he was in a straight line of people, and he was surrounded by dudes
on both sides, striking up a conversation with a pretty and/or hott
lady person was proving to be a challenge. There were plenty of
potential subjects in line, but he was separated from them by at
least five males and several uggs. He would probably wind up
purchasing the new shades first, then making a bee-line to the
first nice piece he saw. If she banged him, fine. If not, also
fine. It didn't matter. Statistically speaking, the first three
would feign disinterest anyway. The key was being a volume shooter,
and also not having a soul.
    His way-cool state-of-the-art phone buzzed.
It was that one guy from work, that Derrick guy, texting him again.
He was always trying to be Danger's friend, but Danger didn't have
friends. When it came to other males, he had either a) respected
but doomed-to-be-defeated rivals, b) groveling worshipers, or c)
enemies. Derrick wanted to make a fourth category, one of
“former-respected-rivals-who-had-a-weird-life-event-and-now-just-want-to-hang-out-and-talk-about-deep-life-issues.”
Danger thought Derrick was lame, but Derrick seemed to not agree.
This was the crux of the issue. Danger often thought of just
ignoring the text messages, but since he had to see Derrick at
work, he always humored the dude.
    “Yo Eddie, how's the line for those
glasses?”
    This guy knew way too much about Danger's
life, and always used his given name. Danger needed to jettison
this tool, and fast.
    “can't talk line moving” Danger replied
curtly, hoping Derrick would get the message behind the
message.
    “Good luck!!” the tool texted back. Even
indoors and through the tint of his i4's, the good wishes and
exclamation points were annoying. In fact, Danger decided right
then and there that only chicks should use those in text
messages.
    As if to keep him from having lied, the dudes
and uggs in front of him started moving. He figured they had to
have at least a hundred of the i5's ready to go, and by his count
he was 27 th in line. Sure enough, when he got up to the
counter and plopped his credit card down in front of the massive
male Apple Store employee, he received a sleek black package
containing technologically superior eyewear in exchange. Danger did
not notice one thing about the humongous employee – race, clothing,
scent, or even his cabinesque height and width. He was too busy
staring at an Apple Store employee at a different register, an
attractive female in a black-and-white Apple-branded button-down
shirt who was rocking a sporty ponytail. He made a mental note of
what he thought she'd look like naked as the male processing his
transaction handed him his card back. He was thinking of making a
run at her, but decided she was probably a