Would like suggestions

"I drove downtown in the rain nine thirty on a Tuesday night to check out the late night record shop"

The drops crash on the roof of the car, reminding me of when the frogs fell from the sky in some obscure movie I had seen recently. Each drop thrashing, pelting, rocketing to the earth leaving a pothole in its wake. The lights from the city, through the droplets and through the glass, create a mirror ball effect of pale yellow freckles across her lap and purse. Wearing a fairly short black skirt and a hand bag to match her rosy pink semi-cotton blouse, she looks about half her age. Tomorrow will be hump day and she'll celebrate with all her friends her one month job anniversary. They'll drink vodka and Killians and some red wine that her ex boyfriend will bring over. She'll sleep with him one more time just to remind herself that she is no longer in love with him. She'll be fired on Thursday for arriving to work an hour late and fully intoxicated. Friday she would've gotten the paycheck of seventy-nine dollars and thirteen cent she'd use to pay for the Bare Naked Ladies records purchased tonight.
Yet she brushed her teeth and gave a weak smile in the mirror as if to a camera far behind her and she slept in her ex’s bed again tonight. He told her the lies she believed the first time around beneath leopard sheets in a crimson bedroom. Her body, fresh, long, like some exotic fruit that leaves a bitter sweet burn to the tip of my tongue, is stretched across a cherry four poster bed making love to a man that inevitably breaks her heart. Like the sappy ending to a chick flick, a dying man or perhaps one leaving for duty calls out for his long lost love to hold her in his arms one last time. A kiss, a train, a crash, and a box of tissue that sits on his coffee table specifically for this use. She'll wear his clothes, make slightly burnt toast and strawberry jelly for breakfast at two pm. Bare Naked Ladies will play as her credit music as the names of all her past lovers roll through her mind. The record she bought the night before sits on the floor unopened, undamaged, innocent, a virgin. She closes her knees on the couch underneath his long thin button up stripped shirt. The ground is wet and clouds still huddle above contemplating to release their remains while she slips outside barefoot to retrieve the paper.