"First my car, now my trench-coat," the drenched Tamur muttered, sloshing a few wet strands away from his face. "Today I'm feeling like that stuff I just stepped in-..."
Pausing in his tromp down the street, he slid his eyes to the squishy feeling already seeping through his shoes. "...Oh, shit."
Literally...
The mechanic shop loomed drearily at the end of the reddened street, a wet and smelly block and a half walk that ended on a coarse, brown welcome mat. Tamur wiped his shoes on the mat before he walked in.
"Sure makes people feel welcome now." He started for the garage of the small shop, stopping as he noticed the shiny piece of plastic in the middle of the desk. "Hello," he mumbled with a side-step, making sure nobody was watching before he yoinked it up. "Dry-cleaning money! This day is finally picking up a bit."