Working in a cozy little downtown Café is an easy job. So easy, in fact, that I want to do more. Though I'm not one to complain, and the pay is enough for the months' rent.
"I'm leaving now," my supervisor Henry pats me firmly on the back. "Make sure to get home safe, ok?"
I continue to mount chairs onto tables. "Thanks, you as well."
I've always looked up to Henry. He was in his mid-twenties, studying architecture here in the city. He was your typical supervisor; the type of person that would easily move your shift around to accommodate your schedule, and often he would be willing that shift himself if it was needed.
Henry suddenly scratches his head. He looks at me with pain lingering across his face. Emotional pain. "You know your coworker? The one with brown hair?"
I place another chair upside down onto a table. "Two people come to mind."
Henry continues, taking a deep breath. "The short one."
I nod in slow comprehension. This was becoming a game of Guess Who. Mind you, I'm not very good at these type of games. "Yeah... Jun? What about him?"
Henry hushes his voice, even though we are the only two in the shop. "I've heard he's going through a rough time, and I just wanted to let you know that taking his night shift was pretty sick."
"It's no problem, really." I shrug. "I don't mind it."
"You have a good one," Henry grins tiredly and pushes the door.
Henry is very dedicated to his work, whatever it may be at a given time. I've seen him work swiftly in the cafe; taking orders, brewing coffee, ringing a customer up at the till... all that jazz. I bump into him on campus, more like the other way around, in fact. I've never not seen Henry carrying around a small notepad or sketchbook, scribbling across the page in thin graphite ideas, inspiration, thumbnails... you name it. Seeing him tired was something I see daily, but today my supervisor was drained. Henry rubs his eyes and leans against the door.
"You too," I give a small wave, but the door closes before he could see.
---
I'm going to say this once and for all; living alone sucks.
I don't have many friends. Sure, Henry counts as a friend but working is the closest we usually get. The close few I have are equipped with their parents, pets, a significant other. None of which I have at the moment. I currently am living on campus, off a small grant, and an infinite supply of ramen noodles (don't ask how, you'd rather not know). I am lucky I don't have to share my dorm with a roommate... my room can barely hold a twin bed, desk, and a night table.
I personally like night shifts because it gives me something to do. At the dorm, all I have is Netflix and my microwaveable cupped ramen. It's not fun watching movies and eating undercooked noodles all alone. I miss my parents and I can't wait for this term to end so I can see them again.
Well, here I am; dipping a moldy mop into a bucket of soapy water, getting ready to scrub the floor. What a great way to spend a Friday night, right? I should be studying for my finals; business isn't going to run itself, though neither is this cafe going to close shop on its own.
I watch as soap suds cover a section of tile floor. I grin stupidly and realize that I'm probably the loneliest man on the planet. I wipe my nose and push the mop across the floor.
