“Well, why would I do that? I don’t even know your name.”
Hooked by the comfort he established between us, I didn’t realize I never told him my name. Would it be strange to tell him we’ve met before? Sure it was nothing more than his acknowledgment of me as a person in the back alley, but still, suddenly the comfort and relationship I built in my head, seemed more of a whack job’s obsession.
“Oh, well, I’m Rose. So there, now you know my name,” I answered.
“Well, Rose, I’m Shane and for some reason you seem very familiar to me. Have we met before?”
My heart detached and tumbled, crashing into the twisted storm that surged low in my stomach. Are you fucking kidding me? Really? Okay, so there was this huge part of me that wanted to tell him who I was and that yes, we’d actually seen each other before and that the prostitute he saved was with me. But there was a part of me that wanted to continue on the path we’d established, I wanted to keep our bat-shit-crazy-night in the alley, exactly where we had left it.
“Um, I don’t think so,” I answered coldly as I pulled the laundry cart over to the vending machine filled with all different soaps and softeners.
“No, I think we’ve met before, you seem familiar to me.” He followed me over to the vending machine, slowing down at the black Formica counter where a ton of brightly-colored suckers were spilling over the edge of a simple, clear plastic bowl. He pulled a green sucker from the bowl and slipped it into his mouth. I could tell he was rolling through all the images in his head. Damn, does he even know what he is doing to me with that bright-green sucker? Mesmerized by his actions, he dragged the sucker across his tongue . . . forward and back, forward and back, breaking my trance when he twirled the stick between his fingers in his mouth and pressed it against his tongue. I watched the stick twist and turn finally coming to rest in the corner between his firm lips.
“I think I’d remember meeting you.”
I struggled to keep from smiling. A pleased grin spread across Shane’s face, the stick of his sucker danced in circles, his eyes gleaming with realization. Noticing my answer came out different than I wanted it to, I tried to pull back the energy swirling between us. And that same ol’ voice came out in my head. ‘You know, Rose, this can’t work’. I took a deep breath and came up with words that would drive the conversation in a different direction.
“Well, maybe you saw me at the grocery store. Do you shop over at the Whole Foods on California?” I answered, looking away as I fed the vending machine flat crisp dollar bills. What the hell? Really? Whole Foods, Rose? I pushed F7 and let a small overpriced box of soap fall off the row it dangled.
“Sometimes, but that’s not it . . . You ever waitress at Boxing Room?” he asked as he pulled my soap from the space it landed.
“The Cajun place on Grove?”
“Yeah, best food in the Hayes,” he answered, holding out the small box of laundry soap in one hand and his sucker in the other.
“No, I’ve never waitressed in my life,” I answered, grabbing the soap from him and tossing it in my basket. I flattened a collection of bills on the edge of the vending machine and fed it enough dollars to get a small pack of dryer softener sheets too.
“Well, now I hope I didn’t offend you with the waitress comment. I know plenty of women that make an honest living as a waitress,” he responded, pointing and poking the shrunken sucker in my direction.
Little did he know that my appearance of being annoyed was far from the reasons he perceived. Great, now it would be a matter of minutes before it clicked in his head where he had seen me. It was inevitable, he was going to remember seeing me in the alley and that my type of service wasn’t bringing people food.
“Far from offended, Shane.”
“That’s one good thing I have going for me.” His half-tilted smile melted my heart.
“What, that I haven’t waitressed before?”
“No, that you don’t get offended easy.”
Shane caught the sucker between his teeth and bit down on the little part that still clung to the stick. He smiled again causing my insides to tangle up with his charm. A noticeable pause hung between us, as if we were both waiting for the other to make a move. I liked hanging out with him, he was damn hot and I was attracted to him, but I can’t pay my rent with flirty conversations and silly girl crushes. I had to get to my apartment and change into my come-fuck-me-heels and peek-a-boo panties. Unfortunately, I was behind the eight-ball this week, time was money and I didn’t have any extra minutes to spare. Pressure built in the back of my throat as I knew what I had to do.
“Well, I’d better get to my laundry. It’s not going to do itself.” The words flew from my mouth as I started to separate my whites from my darks and delicates.