Awakenings: The Greek, The Russian and Me

Chapter 2

I'm exhausted; there were so many flights delayed today due to the weather. Working at the main restaurant in the international TWA terminal on days with weather delays can be so intense. Long lines, passengers all angry about being delayed and missing their connecting flights and with food vouchers that don't cover everything that they have piled on their tray. I can't wait till I my shift is over; with some luck I will be able to escape without running into Jose. He has asked me out so many times, and I keep on turning him down.

Finally the lines are slowing down, and we have an hour to closing. Pam, the other cashier, has been flirting with customers all night long. I don't know how she does it. She's in her late fifties, wrinkled and with a ton of caked-on makeup. Still, young and old guys end up smiling and joking with her as she rings up their orders. Pam is tidying up her workstation, and as she turns to me, she asks, "How is school going?"

I smile and feel as if I'm just radiating happiness as I think of today's encounter with Conn. Cute guys never talk to me, let alone hot guys—they don't even give me a second look. I reply absent-mindedly, "Going well, thanks," as I also start to clean up the workstation.

"That's good to hear, honey. It's important to stay in school; you don't want to be in my shoes and working here for thirty-plus years. You go on ahead and go cash out. I'll close out this area," she says with a motherly smile. Thankful to be able to leave, I grab my cash till and head downstairs to the head cashier's office to count out and make the deposit.

It's the end of another day. I sit in the locker room for a moment and collect my thoughts. As I stare at the lockers, I wonder, will I ever make it out of college? I'm the first in my family to attend, and I'm not even sure I like my major. Maybe it would be easier to just work in the same place like Pam; she looks happy enough. My head hurts; I've got so much to study for and exams in biology with Dr. Liberman. He makes me sick. I really can't stand him, and he doesn't even explain things well. Unfortunately he is the only one who teaches Biology 101. Then there is psychology class and all the reading that goes with it. So boring to listen to the professor go on and on about various theories. Graduation seems so far away. I take a deep breath and rest my elbows on my knees as I cradle my head in my hands. Suddenly I hear the locker-room door open. "Fran, are you all right, honey? I thought you would be gone by now."

I raise my head and get to my feet. Closing the locker door, I tell Pam, "I just lost track of time; it's been a long day. Have a good night; see you tomorrow." I pat her on the arm and walk out.

"Fran, Fran! Wait up," I hear Jose calling. Damn, I thought I would catch the bus to the employee parking lot without running into him. I stop and turn, and he is walking

straight toward me. Jose is nice enough, but by no means do I find him attractive. He's really tall, wiry thin, with black hair in a buzz cut, thick lips, and yellowing teeth. What makes everything worse is that he says the stupidest things and thinks they are funny. I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I really would never go out with him.

He catches up to me. "Hey, babe! I missed you downstairs. Have any plans tonight? Thought you might want to come and hang out in Flatbush with me."

Trying to be kind, I put my most tired-looking face, yawn, and say, "Jose, I have class tomorrow, exams next week; I live in Queens, and Flatbush is in Brooklyn. Besides, you know I've told you before I don't have time with work and school, and please stop calling me babe." His shoulders slump as we reach the bus stop for the employees' parking lot. I breathe deep and look at the night sky. Thank heavens I see the bus; I hope he doesn't sit next to me this time. No such luck—we board the bus, and it's almost empty; I sit down by a window seat, and he immediately sits right next to me. I feel nauseous as he's right beside me. He smells like fried burgers and grease mixed with sickly sweet cologne that just makes me want to gag. He takes a deep breath and blurts out, "You never want to go out with me, but I'm not giving up. I like you; we would make a nice couple. Are you dating someone? I know I'm not going to college, but I make good money as a cook, and the lead cook will be retiring soon, so that position is almost guaranteed to be mine. What's your deal?"

Have the stars aligned in some strange formation? What in the world is going on today with the opposite sex? I suddenly start laughing. "Jose, you're a nice guy, but I'm not interested in dating. Told you before, right now all my focus is work and school," I say in a calm voice.

His face brightens with a huge, toothy yellow smile as he stands to get off at the upcoming bus stop in the employee parking lot. Standing holding the overhead rail, he says, "Aha! You didn't say no. 'Not interested' doesn't count. So I'm going to keep on asking until you say yes." Still grinning ear to ear, he calls out as he descends the bus steps, "See you tomorrow, babe!"

Incredible, does he not get the message? I'm not interested in him! I mumble to myself as the bus reaches my stop. It's so cold tonight, and my windshield is iced over. As I sit waiting for my car to heat up and my windows to defrost, I remember Conn and heat spreads through me. An uncontrollable joy fills me, and I can't help but smile remembering the events of our encounter. I look in the rearview mirror, still the same boring me staring back. I wonder what he saw in me. I'm not pretty or thin. I'm just ordinary. Oh God! I close my eyes tight and see him in my mind. I can almost still smell his cologne. My heart skips a beat just thinking about him; my insides feel hot just recalling the heat that his body was emanating as he sat next to me. I take a deep breath and crack open the window, as it suddenly feels hot and stuffy in the car.

On the drive home, I mull over the events of the day and the long list of to-dos

that I still have to work on before I get to bed. I park my old blue Chevy Celebrity near the corner of the block and walk to house we are renting with my mom. Lou and his wife are the owners of the two-story brick house. They're a young couple in their early thirties; they live on the first floor, and Lou's father lives in the basement. I hate running into his dad, as he just creeps me out. Sometimes I feel that he is spying on us. Our apartment is on the second floor. It's eleven o'clock; the lights on the first floor and basement apartments are off. I quietly unlock and open the door and tiptoe up the stairs toward our apartment. As I enter the apartment, the cat comes to the door to greet me.

Mom is not home tonight, as she works the graveyard shift at the airport and won't be home till about eight in the morning. I feed Mona and give her fresh water; then I make my way to my bedroom.

In the dark I see the answering machine light blinking. I freeze in my tracks and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. As I'm taking off my uniform, I walk slowly toward the answering machine. Could it be? No one ever calls; I'm sure he couldn't have remembered the number I gave him. I press the message button, and the machine says in an automated voice, "You have three missed calls." I press the button again. The first call there is no message, just a hang up; the second message is from Mom: "Fran, I was running late and forgot to feed the cat. Please make sure you feed her. Don't stay up too late. Love you." The third message just about gives me a heart attack. It's that lovely, deep, rich, strangely accented voice: "Fran, it's Conn; would you like to go to the movies on the weekend? Call me."