Heads I win, tails is vanilla

The clapping of leather soles on the concrete gave a rhythm to his thoughts. He walked in quiet solitude, thinking, always thinking. How many times had he been there, how many chances does a man get. Thoughts, not questions, they spun in his mind as he walked.

He'd always found the answers when he walked. Something about the night and walking made it all easy to think, and if not, he always had his old standby. He'd simply toss a coin. He'd made more then one decision based on a coin toss. It never failed, decision made , go or it.

He stopped to light up, subconsciously he took two quarters from his pocket and began dancing them one over the other in his hand as he continued walking. Then as he flipped the last of the cigarette, one quarter was slipped back into his pocket and the other was tossed high in the air. He knew his call as he caught it and flipped it over onto the back of his other hand.

"...yeah I know, a little rain would help, do me a favor guy, when you get a chance....vanilla eggcream..."
He leaned on the sidewalk window and slipped the quarter back into his pocket. Tails, was vanilla