Dragged.

3: Thanks Ma'am!

I smoothed out my skirt, and walked into the Bean Bar, it was 2:30pm. I didn't see the Purple Pony guy anywhere. I contemplated walking out and going to the larger chain up the street to get a half as decent drink, just because I didn't want to deal with those stupid Bettys. I ignored myself and walked up to the counter, and asked for an ordinary coffee with one cream and two sugar. I looked around one more time to see if I could see him, but still saw nothing. One of the Bettys stared at me with her jaw hanging down whilst chewing a huge wad of gum.

"Is there something else you wanted?" she snipped.

"Oh no, I was just looking for someone." I said uneasily, fearing that she was already judging me.

"Oh, you're looking for Patrick. It's his day off. What's his deal with you anyways? He your boyfriend? He wouldn't shut up about you yesterday. Every random little thing." She said now holding my coffee out to me.

"He talks about me?" I said confused.

"Honey, I'm just as confused as you are, now step aside so I can help the other guests." She said so awfully snobby.

I took my drink and jumped back into my car. I wanted to talk to him, but I just didn't know what to say. There had to be a reason why he was rambling about me. After all, there wasn't anything special about me. Maybe he felt the trance as much as I did, but likely not, because I was always the one to love so hard.

I looked at the time and I was ten minutes early for my shift. I walked up to Vicky who was an accountant that worked in the office above the bank. She was always puffing away at an e-cigarette out on the sidewalk, I could tell because the air filled with the nauseating smell of banana cream pie, and there wasn't a bakery in sight. I took one look at her and she was definitely super hungover. It was almost 3pm and she looked like she had been hit by a train. I smiled at her and she gave me sort of a half-smile back.

"Wild night?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, I was at the show until 6am this morning. Haven't slept since." She mumbled.

"Oh wow, what show? Had to be something awesome if it went on that late." I pestered. I was always interested in what Vicky was doing, she was like a lonely accountant by day, but a fire cracker at night, always on some new adventure.

"It was a private event hosted by that club that I am part of." She said, sounding unsure of herself.

"Oh North Broadway, sounds like a riot. Maybe I can come along some time. I don't have the niece for 5 more weeks." I nudged. She shrugged her shoulders and turned around going back up the staircase.

I walked in the front door, and everything was in order as usual. I walked into my office and sat down. I opened my mail, which was a bunch of official statements that I had to file later that day, and then I opened my email. It was usually just junk mail, or silly questions from some of the banks clients. Like "how do I take a picture of a check?" "What major intersection are you located at?" "How do I send money to my son in Nova Scotia?" I always wondered why these questions got patched through to me, because the answers were just as easily accessible on google, but regardless it was my job to get back to them.

I scrolled down to one email in particular. The subject line was a simply 'hey,' and the email was pat345@kiyomail.com I wondered if that was Patrick, so I opened the email.

'Hey,

It's Patrick. The one that lives down the hall from you, and works at the Bean Bar just up the road. I didn't know how to get your personal email, and every time I knocked on your door you weren't there. I just wanted to drop you a line and say that I think that you are really cool. Maybe when you are not at work, or babysitting your niece we can hang out. I know that it's random, but I'm new to this area of town, and I would really like to make some friends. Oh and maybe if you're interested I could get your number or your personal email, so I don't bother you at work again.