The Mysterious Case of Beverly O'Sullivan

August 10, 2011, 1:45 P.M.

I stayed inside most of the day, mostly because it rained and I didn't have a bed to sleep on yet. I was just sleeping on my mattress on the floor with a blanket. I unpacked a few apple crates and boxes for my kitchen and living room, then I hooked up my old box TV from 2007 (because I'm broke as shit after saving up for the flat), and sat on the floor with my stuffed animal fruit bat that I've had since I was seven. About an hour had passed of me doing this and I decided that since the rain stopped, I'd go look for job openings in the area. I'd keep close to the downtown area since most of the shops and restaurants out there were looking for workers. I grabbed my wallet, keys, phone, and jacket, and I was off once again. 

The roads and sidewalks were damp from the rain, and the smell still lingered on the buildings that had large vines of vegetation growing on them. As I walked, I saw that many of the younger adults and teenagers would go for walks, runs, or ride their bikes and skateboard in this weather. I came to a small, three-story building with another building identical to it on its right side. I saw a help wanted poster on the glass front door of the first building, so I went in. The building was a shop, a little art shop. It had t-shirts, paintings, hand-painted pottery, and key chains. I noticed on the left of the shop that there was a stained glass sliding door that was halfway open. Behind the door revealed a small diner with the '70s look to it.

 There were a few booths to sit at, a few round tables to sit at, and a bar at the front of the diner. As I had my head peeked in the doorway, I heard the voice of a young woman call, "Hey, need help with something?"
I turned my head and saw a young woman around my age standing beside the front counter of the shop.
I shook my head, "Uh, no ma'am, I'm actually looking for a job. That is if you have any open judging by the sign outside on the door."
 The woman shrugged her shoulders and motioned for me to come close to her.
I nodded my head as I walked over to her, but I stopped once I was four feet away from her. "Well, you've got nice cheekbones," she said.
I shrugged, "Runs in the family."
"Interesting, well take a look around and see if you'd actually want to work here," she said as she headed to the back room behind the counter.
 "Oh I've been in here for a few minutes, I think I'll find it different to work here," I called.
She came back and said, "What's your name?" "Kristofferson. Also, I can tell by your hair, makeup, and clothing that you've only been at work for ten minutes," I said. "How so?" the woman asked. 

"First off, your hair looks damp, but it looks like it's been towel-dried recently. And it couldn't have been rainwater since it stopped raining about two hours ago. Your makeup looks newly applied, as in your eye shadow and liner isn't smudged from you rubbing your eyes, and your bright red lipstick hasn't faded. Your clothes look freshly ironed and thrown on right after they came off the board, and no matter how much powder and concealer can cover your complexions, your dark circled eyes still show like two dark purple pools of water. So you obviously stayed up late drinking, smoking, and watching TV because your eyes looked strained and your upper lip has a wine stain. So, judging by the fact that this place opens at ten in the morning, but the shop was closed until ten minutes ago, you arrived at exactly, 1:48 P.M.," I explained, then ended it with a smile. 

She looked at me with an amused and also freaked out facial expression, then said, "What are you, a psychopath?"
 "Close, sociopath darling," I said as I rested my arms on the front counter.
 She nodded her head with a smile, "Alright then, I think we'll get along just fine. But I am the owner of this shop, that's one detail you forgot-"
"I don't forget, I just didn't tell you that since you're wearing a manager name tag on your tank top's right strap then I don't have to give you that detail," I interrupted.
 She looked at her name tag and said, "Well shit." under her breath.
"I also can guess that your name is Eileen," I said as I looked her in her black eyes.
 She nodded, "Yep, let me guess, name tag?"
I shook my head, "Nope, whiteboard behind you has the names of the people that work here and have certain tasks to do. And Eileen's is to "hold the fort down until five-thirty p.m." Am I right or am I wrong?"
 Eileen just looked behind her, then looked back at me, and nodded her head amazed.
I smiled as I handed her my resume, "Well, you can glance at that and I'll look around-"
"Oh I don't need this, how did you say you spelled your name, Kristofferson?" she interrupted.
 I wrote on a sticky note that was on the front counter, "K-R-I-S-T-O-F-F-E-R-S-O-N" and handed it to her.
"Cool, I'll print you a name tag and you can start next week," Eileen said as she took the note and walked to the back room and placed it on a corkboard that hung sideways on the back wall. I left my resume on the counter and decided that since I hadn't eaten anything all day I deserved some lunch. So I took that as an opportunity to walk next door and try out the diner.