The next morning, I woke up with a pounding headache and memories from the night before. I had a ball, as usual, with Chele at the club. We danced like high schoolers, drank like college kids and had random conversations with random people throughout the night. I was happy that I worked the night shift today because it was 12:30 in the afternoon and I was just waking up. I dragged myself out of bed and headed to the shower to not only wake myself up, but wash off the smell of smoke, the alcohol, and the glitter that seemed to stick to me from the night before.
--------------------------------------------------------------
I walked into work, Starbucks coffee in hand. When I made it to my dreaded kiosk, one of my favorite coworkers, Alicia, was already there, helping an older customer figure out how to use a smart phone. I laughed to myself as she struggled to show him how to turn it on.
“Ok, so you have to just press and hold this button right here until the screen lights up.” Alicia told him.
“You want me to do who to the what now?” The older customer asked, straining to hear.
“JUST PRESS AND HOLD THIS BUTTON RIGHT HERE.” Alicia said a lot louder and slower this time.
“I pressed the dern thing and it’s not doing what I want! This new fangled stuff is just too much. I don’t know why my children want me to have one. You know, back in my day we had a cord and a phone. That’s it. If someone was using the phone you just wait until they get off.....” The older customer droned on completely ignoring the instructions Alicia was trying to give. I suppressed a loud over the top laugh and continued to clock in on the opposite computer. A smile spread across my face as I shook my head, happy it wasn’t me dealing with this customer. Older people usually had stories for days and as great as they were, we couldn’t stand there and listen to them all day. It was a Saturday and the lines were beginning to form around our little kiosk. An agitated customer came up to me, phone in one hand, and receipt in the other.
“I wanna return this” The agitated customer rudely spat at me, throwing the phone on the counter.
“No problem, sir. What seems to be the problem?” I asked, grabbing the phone and opening the box. Today was going to be a long one.
----------------------
My lunch break couldn’t come any quicker. I made my way to the food court strolling through the mall like I owned it. Shit, I knew everybody who worked there, I might as well have owned it. By the time I made it to the Japanese carry out place, the line was long but moving quickly. I got my Teriyaki Chicken quicker than I thought and found a random spot to sit. The food court was buzzing with people; families shopping for their kids, teenagers just hanging out, middle aged friends just out to shop together. The mall was packed.
Maybe I need to own a mall, I thought to myself as I took a bite of the chicken and some of the fried rice all at once. I was beyond hungry. It was 7 o’clock and I hadn’t eaten all day. The only thing that coated my stomach was the Starbucks I had when I came to work. I swear I had to have finished my food in 2 minutes flat. When I finished, I just sat there and people-watched. It was a growing habit of mine that I developed working in the mall. There were always so many people to watch. I would just chose a person or group of people to focus on for anywhere from 30 seconds to 2 minutes at a time, making up stories of what I think their lives would be or just watching how they interact with each other in certain situations. I watched everything from their mannerisms to what they had on, who they tried to impress and who they truly loved. People were so interesting to watch, especially in the mall because there were so many of them with so many different stories.
A little while later, I made it back to the kiosk where Alicia was just chillin, waiting for customers to appear.
“Hey, you.” I said to her, snapping her out of her mini trance. She was people watching too, I could tell.
YOU ARE READING
Let It Be
General FictionWhat happens when you go against everything you've known to follow your desires? Caprice is a "stud" as the black lesbian community calls her. The masculine female. She has always been known to date more feminine women until the day another stud cam...