"You know, this just isn't how I imagined the date? Ya know? Nothing personal to, uh," an up and down look" you, you're a lovely woman, just not the," awkward neck scratching" right chemistry... Soo, I'll get the bill and we can part ways." A terrible attempt at a smile.
"Mhm, bye."I curtly left, I'd mastered the awful date cues. As I walked to the bus stop I reviewed my last brief relationship. I had no idea what I had done wrong this time. usually I have an idea, at least.
I checked my phone, and texted Dallas, my best friend.
what a flunk, wanna hit up Rico's?
The bus came to a stop, while the other few people boarded, the bus driver had a hand held fan in his hand, it was well over 90° in El Dorado, California. The bus was heading East, right outside of Sacramento, where I live for half the year.
Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Alcippe Schiver. If your wondering about the first name, it's Greek, my mom is an eccentric New Yorker. Al-see-pay. Needless to say, souvenir keychains are a struggle.
My phone vibrated in the pocket of my shorts.
whatta beotch, have you considered switching teams? I know a girl.Rico's what time? I'm free at 8
I smiled at my friends request of "switching teams." Dallas had been an uncloseted lesbian her entire life. I messaged her back.
my love life isn't that bad, there just isn't much of a market for an almost legally blind photographer with 2 hairless cats. 8 sounds good, I'll meet you at ur apartment.
I watched through the window, California was hazy and muggy, but the streets were always full of cheery mosquito-people. As a native New Yorker, this all seemed crazy to me, even now. People functioning in +90° weather, in full suits of all things!
The sun put a glare on everything, California was a slightly-too-bright dreamland to me, especially when my Dad invited me out to stay in his apartment complex, for ¼ of the regular price. My Dad is a big-business man, with greying hair and a suit for everyday of the week. My mom met when she was on vacation, and they were in love, for a year, then my mom wanted to go back to New York, and if there's is anything certain about my mother, it's her iron will. So my mom left, and took me with her.
I don't remember what my mom did then. Now she breeds horses, beautiful ones. Arabians and Friesians and various sport horses. She mainly focuses on managing now, but when it began she was the main trainer and caretaker.
~And let the good times roll, in case God doesn't show~
My phone went off, Mom. Speak of the devil.
"Hey mom, what's up?"
"Just wanted to talk to my favorite daughter, so what's up with you?" She always spoke with this endless pep.
"Well, I am going out with Dallas in-" I checked my watch, 5:23, "-2 and a half hours, then work in the morning. I'm coming down in a few weeks, I just have to get this shoot done."
"Oooh, what's it on this time? I absolutely loved your work on the Polo Team's photospread!" I could almost see her wild hand motions she so commonly spoke with.
"Um, it's more of a low key calendar, probably only local, sorry." Okay, so I admit, it was a bit more along the lines of a male stripper shoot, but I wasn't going there with my mother, who would definitely ask my Dad about it."I gotta go mom, love you, bye bye." The bus pulled to a stop, and I hopped off at my spot.
My apartment building was gloriously cool, way more up my alley. As I waited for the elevator, I tipped my head back and soaked in the lovely cool air conditioning. What a silly concept, "conditioning" the perfectly breathable air, although trust me, I'm not complaining.
Ding. The elevator door I was leaning on vanished into wherever they go, and I plummeted onto then greasy elevator floor, a sadly common happening for me. The elevator attendant looked back at me, unamused. His name was Gary, but I don't think he'd ever bothered to learn my name. He mostly just called me "kid", even though he was maybe 4 years older than me. He spent his days napping in hopes that the manager wouldn't find him, so I don't think he was in the position to judge me, and I'd told him that more than once. I considered him one of my better acquaintances.
His eyes watched me pick myself up off the ground, though whether they were brown or blue or green or hazel I'd never know. Gary was not a put-your-money-where-your-mouth-is kind of guy, he'd never meet your eye. He punched one of the elevator buttons with me saying a word. "You know, you should ask the patron what floor they want before you just go assuming things, it's more polite."I leaned against the shiny walls of the elevator, music no longer played in the elevator since the last storm.
"I figured you'd need direction after a fall like that, Space Cadet." He rolled his eyes at me. I prepared a rebuttal, but we were at my floor, and it probably would have been lame anyway.
I stepped purposefully down the hallway, footsteps muffled by the cheap carpet that lined the floors, the same velvety red as the walls, but with a grandma pattern on it. I unlocked my apartment, 3rd one on the left. The air of my apartment was fresh, but the kind that came out of a Febreeze bottle. It was still ever bright in my apartment even without the lights.
Giant windows on one side boasted a view of the next few blocks. Across the street was a café that smelled of expensive coffee and poor taste in fashion. A movie complex stood a block away advertising the recent block busters, and stray popcorn buckets littered the street around it, which people with orange jumpsuits came by weekly to pick up. In New York it was light all the time too, but there it was the streets signs, and the buildings, and the 1 AM bagel and coffee runs, and the bustle of a unique quality of nightowl living, that had infected everyone, that kept the city so bright and lively. Not the forceful sun that somedays seemed to force people to function in honor of its vast arrogance and glory. Other days, though, it was its the city's natural cheeriness that gave people a reason to go and achieve things.
