True story combined with urban legend

Robert is sculpting the wax under a heat lamp. I’m crouching behind the half walls of the booth smoking.
“You suck at it ‘cause you’re shy,” Robert says.
I take a long pull so I don’t have to answer.
“You’re shy ‘cause you’re self conscious.”
“I’m self conscious because this costume makes me look like a dork.”
“Yeah, you look ridiculous.”
“So do you.”
“Exactly, so does everybody here--you have to think of it like wearing a bright pink shirt.”
“What?”
“Shut up, I’m not done. A bright pink shirt on a dude says, I’m secure enough in my manhood to wear a bright pink shirt. This is like that, but with tights and swords and shit. Look, you want to know what the secret is other than having a pair?” I nod, he doesn’t notice or care. “Middle aged chicks and kids, that’s how we push product, middle aged fuckin’ chicks and kids. Kids are easy, you just yell like, hey little dude, check out this rockin’ dragon candle, and they do ‘cause kids fuckin’ love dragons. Then they whine like little bitches until their parents buy the product. Easy dude, easy. Middle aged chicks you just tell them they’re hot, but you gotta work it. Can you work it, you got a girlfriend?”
I nod.
“I bet she’s hot too, so you can work it, and if they’re with a dude it’s even easier. Then when you tell them they are smokin’ babes it pisses the dude off, right? I mean this dude hates you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, so then you just imply―you know what imply means?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, you just imply this dude doesn’t care about his girl enough to buy her a candle and he’s fucked. I mean your makin’ on his chick and she’s diggin’ it ‘cause they all do, right, so now he’s challenged, he’s got to show her he is still a man and he still loves her, right?”
“Okay.”
“And so you put it in terms of candles, you make it so that buying the candle is the only way he can win, do you get it?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
I hate him, I hate selling candles, I hate the fucking Renaissance Festival, I hate the desert, I hate hate hate. Mostly I hate this guy named Crow. He makes hand drums. He has dreadlocks. He is older and more confident than me. He sure is talking to my girlfriend an awful lot and she sure is laughing.
I finish out the day and get back to the trailer. I have made more money than yesterday, a lot more. I would feel good but I did it using Robert’s tricks so I just feel like an asshole.
Crow is in the trailer. He is cooking, Jesus Christ, he may as well be massaging her feet. He smiles at me. “Hey, Ben, we were just making a little tofu stir fry—you hungry?”
“Ummmm, I just ate. I think I’m gonna go for a walk.”
“Are you sure, Ben? Crow is a really good cook.”
I’ll bet he fucking is. “I just feel like getting some air.” Like there is air in the desert.
“Will you do me a solid and walk my dog? She’s real friendly, she’s tied right around back.”
No Crow, I will not walk your dog while you try to seduce the woman I might love, I will punch you in your stupid pierced nose.”Sure, no problem.”
I go out back to get the dog. I love dogs. As the dog is licking my face I’m thinking how straightforward they are.
The sun is setting in the desert and me and the dog, I’m calling her Shelly in my head, walk brooding into the cactus filled distance. Actually Shelly is doing a bad job brooding. Bouncing, grinning, peeing, no brooding. “What is so great, Shelly?”
When I get like this I just go inside myself. I don’t notice where I’m walking and I don’t notice how far I’ve walked. I’ll go for hours. So will Shelly it seems, probably wants to get as far away from those assholes as I do. Eventually I notice it’s cold, it’s really cold and I have no idea where I am. Shit shit shit.
Its dark and I’m starting to freak out a little. “Do you know where we are Shelly? I thought dogs had great noses, Shelly. Come on, make me proud.” I follow her, talking so I won’t know I’m scared. “I took his bitch and he took my bitch, huh Shelly? You know what they say, better to have never loved because you don’t have to lose, what? Oh you are good, can’t slip one past you, can I?”
I stop. Shelly has stopped. There is a cabin in front of us. I have no idea where I am. But I have a pretty good idea I am very far from where I should be. “It’s cold Shelly, we could freeze out here. Whoever owns this will understand.” I knock on the door. No answer. All the lights are out, probably no one lives here. I knock again just to be sure, Shelly whines a little and licks my hand.
The door isn’t even locked. It creaks open and I feel around the edge of the frame for the light switch. I find it but the light is burnt. “Fuck it Shelly, we don’t need light, just a bed and some blankets. We are men after all--well, some of us anyway.”
I pull my lighter out and flick it on as I step inside. It smells sweet and sick. A little like onions that have been left out on the counter. The lighter reveals one room. A bed, a table, a bookshelf. The bed and table are covered in thick maroon sheets.
“Well Shelly, beggars can’t be choosers.” But Shelly hasn’t followed me inside. She whines at the door. “Come on, we’ll freeze.” She whines but doesn’t budge. I put the lighter away and grab her collar. “Just chill you weirdo, there’s nothing in here. I drag her in and together we jump under those thick sheets. She licks my face. “Night girl,” I tell her. “I mean you’re not the right girl, but beggars can’t be choosers.” I fall asleep.
In get up in the night and have to pee real bad. Where the hell am I? Oh, ya. “Shelly? You have to pee girl, where’d you go?” I hear her whine under the bed. I put my hand down and she licks it. “Well I have to pee, see you when I get back girlfriend” I stumble outside and let loose. Ahhhhhhhhh. As I’m zipping up I see something on the ground about ten feet in front of me. It’s Shelly dead on the ground with a knife in her chest. I start to run.