Never Not Near

There is a pile of ripped up paper by his feet. Bits of popcorn that doesn't make his mouth dot the perimeter of the pile. His companion looks back towards the road they took in and squints to read the sign. His elbow brushes her arm.
"Huh?"
Ralph keeps staring forward.
"Why not the favorite Ralph? Why these long shots? Why do you do it to yourself? Just go with them. Ralph, go with the winner. Go with the winner."

She pulls out the chair at the short table and asks to change the channel on the television to her right.
"You can't smoke in here."
She removes the cigarette from her lips and flips open her wallet. Her fingers graze the ends of dirty bills while she counts backwards in her head.
"Six Seventy-Two please."

Ralph wrings his hands then flattens his shirt against his bulging gut. He pulls a paper from his pocket and blows it a kiss.

"Go with the winner."