Dan
Every day for about three weeks I would try and start a conversation with Phil and every day he shot me down. Not that I lost encouragement though. I still talked. I usually asked about apartments and if he knew anyone looking for a flat mate. I didn't get a reply but that was typical from him, but if there was anything I did need him to respond to this would be it. I really really don't want to room with a serial killer. I've been checking the herald for apartment advertisements and made a list of possible places of where I want to live. I email the first on my list alphabetically by street name, Philip Lester, he lives on Apple Wood Drive; and, I am to meet him this afternoon at 1:30pm. He seems pretty chill from what I read in the advertisement and in his email. Hopefully he's not a serial killer.
I roll over in my bed to see that it is 9:00 which is earlier than I've been getting up on the weekends. I usually wake up at about noon when the cleaning ladies come knocking on my door to see if I need fresh towels. I groggily stretch before heading down to the lobby to eat the complimentary breakfast that the hotel serves. I go for a banana and coffee deciding not to really fill up so I can eat an early lunch on my way to Philip's. After eating and scrolling through Tumblr for thirty minutes I get up to go back upstairs to my room and shower. I decide on wearing black jeans and a light blue sweater so I look casually dressed up whilst meeting Philip. At 11:30am I head out for lunch so I have enough time to walk to Drew's and then Philip's flat. Before leaving I grab my black backpack and keys so I can get back in.
Drew's is this tiny American diner at the corner of Mulberry and Cherry Oak. They serve good food like biscuits and gravy, grilled cheese burger, and Philly cheesesteak, all of which I am assuming are traditional American foods. Drew's is kind of what I expect restaurants to be like in small American towns. I've sadly never left the country. I'd love to go, but I can't afford it. That's why I am working two different jobs so I can go to college then make enough money to go to the United States and France and Japan! Of course those will definitely have to wait until after college. Inside Drew's the owner Andrew is sitting on a stool drinking coffee. "Hello, Dan." He greets me smiling.
"Hello, Mr. Andrew how are you?" I ask sitting next to him and flinging my backpack into the seat next to me. I usually come on on Sundays and not Saturdays but I was feeling it today. Maybe it was because I actually left the hotel on a Saturday either way I plan on having a tenderloin for the first time.
"So what are you going to get today, your usual?" He asks politely getting ready to tell the cook in the back.
"Actually today I was considering trying a tenderloin." When I say this he chuckles.
"How about a half tenderloin because I'm not sure you are realizing how big they are." I nod my head eagerly at the man who smiles in return. "Jeb half loin for Dan." Jeb is the head master chef, as Jeb says though he's more of a deep fry and grill cook, and also Mr. Andrew's son.
"Woah really? He's not getting mozzarella sticks?" That's what I usually get here with a Shirley Temple to drink as well. "He still wants the Shirley Temple, right? Or am I going to have to make a root beer float?"
"What's that?" I ask.
"It's vanilla ice cream in root beer." Mr. Andrew tells me. My eyes light up at the sound of that. I am trying all sorts of new things today. "I think he will trade out the Shirley Temple for a root beer float after all, Jeb."
"Kid, next time you come in here you're gonna get your usual because I had it all ready as soon as I heard your name being said by Dad." Jeb shouts back at me pushing a plate that I hadn't noticed before behind the pickup counter. I giggle and nod my head to him. "God stop being so damn cute. I'm not gay but you're making me want to go gay for you."
"Get back to work, Jeb, you're making him blush redder than a cherry tomato." Drew yells at his son. I talk one on one with Mr. Andrew getting casual interjections from Jeb as he makes my lunch. They always tell me to quit one of my jobs or work here on the weekends because they love having me here, but I'm not actually too sure I'd want to work here. The only job 'd be good at would be cleaning tables or serving them I'm too clumsy and blind to be able to cook anything, though I am talented at making morning drinks. I always decline politely because it is sweet of them to ask.
About 15 minutes later Jeb brings out my food with a side of fried pickles. I instantly fall in love at first bite. The crunch is perfect, but it seems like it is missing something so I experiment with mustard which in the end actually makes it perfect. I smile and continue to eat my meal until content. "So, Dan, how'd you like it?" Jeb asks leaning against the small window to the back.
"I love it! The tenderloin had a perfect crunch to it and the fried pickles on the side is exactly what it needs. The root beer float is more of a dessert type thing than an actual drink but it was still superb. A-plus meal ten-of-ten." I compliment him.
"Shucks, Dan. You're makin' me blush. Get out of here kid." He ushers me away with his hands. I leave the money under my plate like I usually do and head out to find my way to Apple Wood Drive by 12:15pm. Honestly it's not too far away from where I am right now so I might actually be early. Shouldering my backpack nervously I head in the direction of Philip's apartment. Apartment 417 building 1B.
Inside the main entrance there are two rooms immediately G1 and G2 which means I'll need to go up four levels. The elevator is broken, but that's alright because they scare me. I'd much rather go up all the stairs than take the stupid elevator. Just the thought of being trapped inside of the elevator and falling to your death is enough to make me cry. Most of my friends think it's weird and irrational to have that fear but they still take the stairs with me everywhere. But, I suppose if I ever want to the Empire State Building, St. Louis Gateway Arch, or the Sears Tower I'll need to get over my fear because there are too many stairs to walk them all.
I jog lightly up the stairs on my toes counting as I go up because walking flat footed takes way too long and if I don't count I will fall up the stairs and get bruises all over my knees. Once I reach the fourth floor I exit the stairwell to find 217. I'm excited I already like the area where this flat is. Nice quiet a convenient walk to and from work and the city. I'm tempted to say I'd move in even without seeing the apartment. I approach apartment 217 and right the doorbell. It's time to head into my possible apartment.
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YOU ARE READING
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Hayran Kurgu"Why?" "Because." "I told you about me." "I didn't want to know." "But we're co-workers." "So?" "But-" "No."