Yearly || Clifford

whatever .3

Michael Clifford

Age 20

"Shit shit shit shit." I mumbled fumbling to get on my tight skinny jeans, before the girl sleeping soundly in her bed woke up. I can't even remember her name. Finally getting my damn pants on, I quickly grabbed my shirt, jacket and shoes that were strewn throughout the doorway.

I slipped through her apartment and out unto the hall, sighing with my clean getaway. The worst is when the girl catches you sneaking out.

Once I get down to the lobby of the apartments carrying my shoes and smelling like sex, the bell hop gives me a dirty look and stroll past him, I've seen that look to many times to care.

Stepping out into the harsh winter, I unconsciously pull my jacket closer to my body. Cold and tired, a cab doesn't come fast enough, even though they are everywhere in the glorious city of Chicago.

The cab is warm and the driver actually looks pleasant as he asks, "Where ya to?" In a thick Chi Town accent. I think Chicagoans all sound like Sarah Palin, but that's just me.

"Logan Square," I pause glancing at the time displaying 9:25 on his dashboard, "And could you make it a quick one, I'm going to be late."

The driver started forward and chuckled, "Woah, man I didn't ask for ya whole life story."

"You are one of the kindest can drivers I've ever had." I laughed pulling out a fifty and handing it to him, "Keep the change," god I sound like a douche, well I did just sneak away from that girl, "Sorry I've always wanted to say that."

The driver waved his hand, "Good luck to you bro." And with that he drove off.

I sighed and turned to the shitty comic store I worked at. I unlocked and turned on the lights, the rows of comics and others nerd-related things coming into view. But I love it here. I started getting into comics when I was fifteen, right around the time Lindsey left.

I flipped the 'closed' sign to say 'open' and sat at the stool behind the counter, reading a Spider-Man comic.

I had nearly finished when a thin guy walked in and immediately went to the right to all the Marvel comics. He pulled out several Thor comics and the same Spider-Man comic I am currently reading. He walked up and put the total of eleven little books on the check out counter.

"Are these all for you?" I asked chuckling as I scanned his books. My manager always tells me I'm not friendly enough to the costumers.

"No," his accent was a dull Australian, I'm guessing he lived here a long time, "The Thor ones are for my friend, I apparently did something to piss her off and now I have to get on her good side. Plus it never got her a Christmas present."

"Yeah well, are you desperately in love with her or something?" I asked still scanning. Good job Michael not being awkward!

He burst out laughing, "God no, I'm gay, and going to school to be a fashion designer, we are just friends."

"Oh," I let out an awkward chuckle, and scanned the last book, "That'll be 38.45," manners Michael, "please."

He pulled out a silver credit card and swiped and signed his name, "Well it was nice to meet you.." he trailed off no knowing my name.

I stuck out my hand, "I'm Michael."

"Jaxson, with an 'x'," he barked a laugh, "Wow, I think I've just out gayed myself."

I just awkwardly left and handed him his bag. He started walking out of the store, then turned right before he got to the door,

"Michael, I can see you think I'm hitting on you, but you aren't my type. However you would be perfect for Zoe. Maybe I'll introduce you guys sometime."

I waved him away, "Yeah yeah whatever."