Shining brightly through the window, the sun kissed my right cheek as it blinded my eyes signaling for my body to wake up. I rolled over facing backwards towards the sun as I lifted my arms stretching, reaching up to the ceiling. A violent headache from last night’s drink made it difficult for me to get up from the untidy couch filled with blankets, business cards, and newspapers. Combatting my fatigue and hangover, I decided to stand up ten minutes after I woke up. I picked up the bottle of vodka underneath my couch that was soaking my carpet as I walked towards my kitchen. My violent headache gave me a massive blow onto my skull which made walking to the kitchen a struggle. I opened the cabinet where I usually store my ibuprofen to relieve the pounding on my head. I grabbed three pills and with a glass of water swallowed it down to ease the headache. Minutes after I started brewing my coffee, my phone rang. I ran towards my living room searching through the couch under the piles of newspaper looking for my phone. I slid my finger across the screen to answer the phone call as I greeted the caller happily, “Hello! Amelia Carter speaking” then an unfamiliar voice greeted me back.
“Hello Ms. Carter, this is Bryan Fraiser from the Matthews-Smith Employment agency, uhm… I will be your agent from now until Ms. Jin comes back from her maternity leave; Ms. Jin wanted me to remind you about the seven interviews she set up for you last month, three of which are today, one tomorrow, two on Thursday, and one on Friday. She also noted that she wishes you: good luck” I was listening intently thinking to myself: Shit, Amelia! You had this written down on your calendar. How the hell can you forget? On the other hand, I also felt a sense of relief because this is still an employment opportunity so I asked him to continue on.
“For today we have one at 10:00am at La Fleur financial firm, another at 2:30pm at Alba Consulting Group, and the last one for today is at Western Bank. For tomorrow…” I shuffled through my stuff hoping to find my leather notebook full of my scheduled interviews as Bryan kept talking.
“Bryan, I got it. You don’t have to read them off. Thank you though. Appreciate it!” I said and hung up the phone. I clicked the switch button on the top of my phone to check the time, 7:12am; Great! I still have time for a run. On the top of my screen, I noticed that I received a text message which I expected to be from Megan since I left last night without even notifying her. Oddly enough, it wasn’t from Megan, but rather, an anonymous number. It reads:
You left a voice message on my phone last night. Don’t take this offensively, but I would like you to know that you sound like a beautiful woman from what I heard yesterday.
My eyes widen trying to remember what the voice message was about “you sound like a beautiful woman” and the memories of last night hit me like a hammer. I felt my stomach sink in embarrassment as my blood rushed through the veins of my cheeks that turned my face into red. The pain in my head is nothing compared to the humiliation I felt from my actions last night. The warmth of my cheeks made me perspire from the humiliation as I cringe remembering everything I said on the voice message that should have been sent to Andrew. I reread the text message over and over again wishing that the text message was actually a cruel joke or a prank from Megan, but it wasn’t. Someone, maybe from the other side of Philadelphia or my neighbor, received a voice recording of me touching myself, and begging like a desperate sex addict for my ex-boyfriend to come back to hook up with me. I turned off my phone, and I threw it on the couch not wanting to see or to touch it while hoping that I’m still dreaming. I walked back to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee to wake up my nerves and hopefully, to calm me down. I surround the cup with my hands delicately holding it as its warmth transfer to the tips of my fingers while my lips touched the cup tasting the bitterness of the freshly brewed coffee. Still holding the cup on its handle, I walked back to my living room, sat down on my couch, and reread the message again “you sound like a beautiful woman from what I heard”. Although I was debating with myself whether or not I should respond, without thinking I typed in an apology text saying:
Thank you for the comforting message. I want to apologize from what you received last night- it was not intended for you. I’m sorry again.
Heart pounding, Palms sweating, fingers are shaking as I typed each word in. I closed my eyes as I cringed in shame as I listen to my heart like the sound of a drum; I inhaled to calm myself down sucking in my stomach, and held my breath for at least 2 second, and gently released the air out of my lungs as I pressed the send button. Message Sent. Trembling, I threw my phone on the couch again as I wiped my palms on the dress I slept in last night. I took a sip of my hot coffee while savoring its aroma then a few seconds after I responded, the sound of my text notification startled me making me jump as my heart skipped a beat. The screen lit up, One New Message. I sighed as I grabbed my phone and although full of hesitation, I pressed the view button. It reads: No need to apologize, I enjoyed every second of it.
