Wine 03: Rooftops and snapshots

Note: Read Wine 02: Merlot  First


Half the guests have gone now, but the wine still flows and the music plays softly as the hipsters
become more like friends to me and less like pests. I’ve met several people over the course of the evening and I’ve had to eat my words. They are not douchbags. Far from it.

I meet night’s hosts - a man named Terry and his wife Joyce. When I offer to pitch in to help pay for the evenings wine, the host laughs at me and tells me to hold onto my money. Evidently the whole evening is some sort of tax write off and a chance to meet new people. Go figure. I do pitch in by washing and drying a set of glasses, not taking no for and answer. I also clean up the remains of a broken glass and take out the trash. Guilt assuaged, I follow my cheese girl, Michelle, up to the roof.

I’m not sure where Steve is and I’m glad. I don’t need his words of wisdom right now. I slip into my jacket and move to the far corner of the roof with Michelle. The wind on the roof is cold and filled with moisture, but the wine coursing through my veins acts like an internal heater. We look out towards the park as a police siren and dog serenade us. Streetlights glow orange in the fog and I take a deep breath of cold, clean air.

“So, does that cheese trick always work with guys? Like some siren – you lure them to their fate with brie and sharp cheddar?” I’ve lost count of the amount of wine, but have a firm grasp on just how buzzed I am.

“Works every time. Men can’t resist the allure of a woman baring dairy products.” She shivers.

I remove my coat and she presses her hands against it as I try to wrap it around her. “No, you’ll freeze. Put it back on.”

“No, take it. I lose my gentleman card if I don’t give it to you. Come on. You’re dressed for summer in the islands.” I manage to work the coat onto her and she finally stops resisting.

“Well, thank you.” She smiles and sips her wine. "

We stare out into the night for a minute without saying anything. We rest our elbows against the roof wall and just stare. Finally, she breaks the silence.

“I’m not sure if my brother would approve of me being up here with some stranger.” She giggles and gives away the fact that she’s as buzzed as I am. “Inebriated and on a nearly deserted rooftop with a strange man. Not ladylike at all. We should have a chaperone.”

I hear Steve and bow my head, praying that he doesn’t notice it’s me in the dark. “Well, we have one. The loud guy back there. My friend Steve. He’s the one that invited me here.”

She glances back, then faces forward again. “I just see a couple making out.”

Lucky Steve, I think to myself.

“I’m glad he doesn’t see us. He has a bit of a social grace issue.” I swirl the wine in my glass and steal a glance at her. The light does wonders for her already magical look.

“I see. Not very pleasant?”

“No, he’s fine. We just have a strange relationship. I think he thinks of me as his younger, slightly dim step brother.” I smirk. The wine is in perfect balance in me. I’m happy and giddy, but not sick. Wine nirvana.

“Ah, I get it.” She finishes her wine and places the glass at her feet. I follow suit and place my glass next to hers.

I start to feel the awkwardness creeping in around the edges and try to think of something to say or do to drive it away. I reach into the left coat pocket and pull out my little pocket camera. I power it up and aim towards the park over the rooftops. “I have to document everything.” I switch to view mode and check the picture, then power it off and smile to her.

“Let me see it?” She holds out her hand.

“Sure.” I place the camera into her palm and watch as she steps backwards, aims the camera at herself, then snaps a picture. “Oh, the flash didn’t go off.” She turns on the flash and points it at herself again. The Flash goes off and her face is imprinted on my eyes for a moment. She’s really pretty.

“There. Now I’m documented as well. I don’t want you forgetting me.” She smiles sweetly.

I smile back and the awkwardness seems to drift away.

“I have to head out. Walk me down?” She slips out of my coat and hands it to me. We make our way across the roof and down the stairs, supporting ourselves so we don’t take a tumble.

“We leaving?” Steve follows us to the door and walks behind us with a brunette on his arm. Her lipstick is smeared and hair a mess. “You kids have a good time?”

“Wonderful time, thanks for asking.” Michelle doesn’t look back. She grips my arm as her foot slips out from under her and I hold her up.

“Nice catch, champ.” Steve chuckles. “I’ll call us a few cabs.” He pats my back gently and winks as he passes me with the brunette giggling at his side.

“Thanks.” Michelle smiles up at me and smile back. We stand in the hallway and she moves closer to me. “I left my glass up there,” she says softly.

“I can get it.”

“I really think this is where you kiss me. The glasses will be fine up there.” She presses forward and I kiss her softly. She tastes like wine and smells like flowers. Lavender, I think. She wraps her arms around my back and gives me a little squeeze. I do the same and slide my hand up to the back of her head - not down to her backside - and run it through her hair. She moans softly, then breaks away first and I rub her arm.

Joyce's voice bursts from the living room. “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!” Laughter fills apartment and the spell is broken.

I’m not sure what to say, so I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Can I have your number?”

She rubs at her arms – still chilly. “Why?” She tilts her head. “Are you going to call me?”

“I may need advice later. You know, about cheese and things. I figure it might be good to have your number in case I run into anything I’m curious about.” I shrug playfully.

Michelle grins and looks around. She pulls a scrap of paper and pen from a basket by the phone and writes. “I knew it would come down to cheese advice. Men always want to use you for your knowledge.” She hands me the paper and slides the pen back into the basket.

“Need a ride?” I try to keep my voice level and not too needy.

“My brother’s taking us back. He doesn’t drink.” She smiles. “Thanks though.” She bites her lip. "I'd offer a ride, but we're crushed in like sardines." I hear the earnestness in her voice.

“No, not a problem. I need to head back with Steve anyway.” I sound like an ass in my head and I want to smack myself. I need to come up with something witty. Some closing remark of note so she’ll remember me.

“I have a cab. Mind if Jen rides with us?” Steve pulls on his coat and the brunette – Jen, I presume – sways next to him. Steve looks over to Michelle and I wince. “Did you need a ride home? We can all share the fare.”

Jen slurs slightly, but seems sweet. "Yeah, come with. It'll be nice."

“Thanks – my brother is giving me a lift. He drove us all over.”

Steve nods. “Cool. Well, goodnight.” He looks at me. “Coming or…?”

“I’ll be right there.”

I walk Michelle in to find her brother and promise to give her a call. Her brother shakes my hand and tells me it’s a pleasure to have met the Cheese Guy after all this time. Michelle blushes slightly and I take is as a good sign. I touch her arm and make my way out to the front door.

People file out and say their goodbyes and I manage to get a thank you and wave in to the hosts from a distance. I find it hard to leave. The apartment is warm and the smells of wine and food and candles make me think of holidays and parties from my childhood.

The buzz of the wine warms me as I make my way out into the cold, night air clutching Michelle’s number in my hand. I find Jen and Steve standing out on the curb and manage to make it to them right as the cab arrives. We pile in and Steve offers to drop me home first. Jen seems friendly and talks quietly about the wines she tasted as the cab makes it way through the fog.

Steve manages to remember the merlot and asks me if I liked it. I tell him it was the best I’ve tasted and he nods. “I thought you’d like it. You love merlot and that was amazing. I sent you a link about it.” He waggles his iPhone at me and I thank him, wondering if he’s changed or if I just never really saw him as the friend he really was.

God, I love wine.

Wine 02: Merlot

Note: Read Wine 01: Bread and Cheese  first

The wine glass feels heavy in my hand as I look out the window and across the street to the market where I got the now forgotten bread and cheese and I think about the girl there. I look down at my glass as Steve pours me another glass of wine. I look at him with a mixture of contempt and gratefulness.

“A merlot you’re going to love.” He shows me the label, but I don’t pay attention to what’s there.




“Am I?” I look at the contents of the glass with disdain.

“What is with you, James? Angry at me for not letting you sit at home with your books and self pity?”

I fucking hate you, you pompous turd. You and all these asshole, hipster douchbags.

“I’m just not feeling very social right now. The wine is making me tired and the crowd is a little out of my league, I think.” I look up from my glass in time to see Steve walking away with some brunette. He pours her a glass of the merlot and disappears with her into the kitchen. “And you’re gone again,” I growl low to myself.

“Sorry, I keep doing that to you, don’t I?”

I turn and stand face to face with the hippy girl from the market. She stares at me with big, gray eyes and pouts. “I guess I never got over the cheese stealing. It’s just hard to bare. But, I'm sorry to keep running off on you.” Her smile is enchanting.

I freeze up not knowing how to reply. I’m happy that I have not made a fool of myself when I see a man move towards her and slip his arm around her shoulder. I play off everything like the jokes they obviously are and sip my merlot with a goofy grin plastered to my face. The merlot is amazing and I frown and look at my glass before looking back at the couple.

“Is this woman bothering you?” the man laughs and hugs her to him. “She’s a menace.”

“I came from a broken home.” She removes her hat and places it on the mans head. “My siblings were all cruel monsters.”

“No excuses.” The man adjusts the hat and holds out his hand. “David.”

“James.” I shake his hand and spill a little of the merlot on my hand. Without thinking, I wipe it on the side of my jeans and wince slightly as I think about the stain.

“The cheese stealer at the store.” She frowns and it looks real to me though I know she’s playing.

“I couldn’t resist.” I sip my wine and glance around the room for Steve. He’s nowhere to be seen.

“Oh?” The man raises his brows and cocks his head to the side. “Are you flirting?”

I laugh. My heart starts to race. While awkward, the whole of the situation is somewhat exciting.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it then. Sorry to interrupt.” He winks and moves away as quickly as he arrived.

“Well?” The hippy girl stares at me blankly and I find myself lost in her eyes again. The grey of them reminds me of storm clouds.

I grip my glass so hard I think I’ll shatter it. “Excuse me?”

“Go on. I’m waiting.” She folds her arms and cradles the glass against her bicep.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” I laugh an awkward laugh.

“I thought you were flirting? I was waiting for more. You were off to a good start before he arrived.” She smiles, raises an eyebrow, and takes a sip.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were with him at the time. Um, all my best moves work on married women or women with boyfriends.” I try to play the whole thing off as I sip at my wine. Where the hell is Steve?

“David’s my brother. I’m not married and I don’t currently have anyone I refer to as boyfriend.” She looks back at the man and he waves his fingers towards us. “So, Cheese Stealer James, you were saying?” She sips her wine and levels her eyes at me.

________

Like it? Read PART 3 here:
https://malcojojo.blogspot.com/2008/08/wine-03-rooftops-and-snapshots.html

Wine 01: Bread and cheese

“So anyway, he just sits there like an idiot while she takes off all her clothes and dives in. The whole thing goes off as expected with her and Francois disappearing into the woods and those damn dogs chasing him off into the dark. I tell you, if I had a girl like her, I wouldn’t let her jump into a pool with a Frenchman. Especially one like – what the hell is that?”

He points and my eyes follow. The smoke from his cigarette burns my eyes and I rub at the left one absently while trying to focus my right. I scan the street and wave my hand in front of my face to get the smoke away. The Chinese food I’ve eaten makes my stomach gurgle and roil.

“What?” I cough. He doesn’t get the hint.

“That girl with that guy. Her dress is just blowing up and she’s not doing a thing about it. Awesome.” He flicks the cigarette away points again.

This time I see her. A woman walks away from us with a man at her side. Her dress is some sort of lightweight material that blows up with the slightest gust. I’ve seen this before. I mean, this is what guys look at as gifts in this world. The off chance you’ll see a woman’s panties as she exits a car or catches an off gust up her dress. And not the paparazzi shots of movie stars in magazines and the internet. The face to face – as it were – chance occurrence. As if the Gods above are rewarding you for some good deed you didn’t know you had done.

I raise my eyebrows as the wind catches her dress again. She wears a thong and her ample backside swishes from one side to the other as she continues down the street without trying to stop it.

“Wow.” That’s all I manage before Steve stands up and starts moving towards the store. I follow, like always.

Steve opens his arms wide. “Must be nice to be that free, you know? To let your ass fly free for all to see without trying to hide it away. I guess it is just a butt. We all have one. But still, it’s cool to see a woman just let it all hang out like that.” A tiny, Asian woman glares at him, but he doesn't care.

“Mine is nowhere near as curvy, round and perfect as hers," I say with a grin.

This catches him off guard and he looks at me and laughs hard. “Funny.”

We move into the store and start wandering the aisles in search of food. I’m not hungry at all – the miscommunication of the afternoon’s activities making me think I needed to be fed before the party. The Chinese food would have been gladly left for a solid deli sandwich.

“I’m not hungry. I’ll just grab a bag of cookies or something.”

“You’d bring a gun to a knife fight.” He laughs again. “Cookies to a wine party is classic James.”

I think of things I could say back. Not telling me what the hell is going on and blowing smoke in my face is classic Steve. I say nothing.

“You should get bread and cheese or something. That’s wine food.” He motions to another girl with his head and I look.

She’s wearing a delightful summer outfit. She’s 70s hippy feeling and very pretty. Her blouse is flowing and her jeans tight. She wears sneakers and a fedora. She moves like a dancer - graceful and with purpose. I scan her body and run my hand over the box of baking powder in front of me for show. trying to look like I'm just a simple shopper. She’s very cute. Her full frame sways with each step and I feel like her hips are hypnotizing me. I move up her body and note the seeming lack of a bra. When I get back to her adorable face, I see that she's’s staring right at me. I smile clumsily as she smirks and moves off down the row.

“Great.” I look for Steve and he’s nowhere to be found.

I make my way down the bread aisle and before I even know what I’m doing and pulling a loaf of sourdough off the shelf. I feel ill and I’m not sure if it’s because of the Chinese food or because I can’t not do what Steve suggests. I just need to find a lump of fucking cheese and get to the party.

I pick up my pace and move to the cheese area. There are a few out for tasting and I slip a toothpick from the cup next to the tray and spear a wedge. As I’m bringing it to my mouth, someone says, “That was mine.”

I stop and hold the cheese inches from my mouth as I turn to see the hippy girl frowning at me.

“You totally snaked my cheese, dude.” She shoves her hat back away from her face and a strand of blonde hair drifts down in front of her right eye. She swipes it back behind her ear.

I stare not knowing what to do.

“Are you just going to eat my cheese without an introduction? It seems really rude.” She places her hand on her hips, swings her basket back and forth and narrows her eyes. “I mean, it’s very forward of you, yeah?”

I glance at the cheese and she laughs. Her small breasts bounce and I think I’m in love. I watch as she takes a toothpick, spears a small cube of cheese, and pops it into her mouth. “Fine. Go ahead and take it. But I’m not sure if I can trust you ever again.” She smiles and wanders off with basket in hand.

I slide the cheese into my mouth and watch her walk toward the checkout. She looks back and smiles wide as a hand strikes the center of my back. I wince and turn to see Steve smiling with that I told you so smirk of his.

“Bread and cheese. Good call. Get this one and let’s roll. We’re going to be late.” He picks up a wedge of some yellow cheese wrapped in plastic and lays it on top of my bread, then heads off towards the checkout.

_______

Like it? Read PART 2 here
https://malcojojo.blogspot.com/2008/08/wine-02-merlot.html

Better

“The sun was bright and the sky was so clear this morning, Sonnie. Did you see it?” Angie Lyst smile brightly. It always made Sonnie think of an elf or pixie. “I wanted to just lay down in it all day. Curl up and sleep.”
Sonnie nodded and slid her sunglasses on. “Yeah, it was lovely.” Her olive skin had goose bumps now as the fog rolled over the City and small drops of dew-like moisture started to cover things. The sun fought hard, but was loosing the battle. “I wish we got out sooner. Sorry.”
The small coffee shop was busy and people moved in and out like ants. The outdoor table seemed like a good idea 45 minutes ago when the sun was unhindered by fog, but now Sonnie regretted the choice. She looked down at her arms again, adjusted her blouse, then looked over at Angie blankly. She enjoyed the time with Angie. She didn’t have to talk much. She liked just listening from time to time.
Angie sipped her coffee and shook her head. “Not a big deal.” Her hair was clipped at the sides and it made her look even younger. “I got Ron’s card. It was nice of him to try to…say he was sorry. Or whatever he was trying to do.” She shrugged. “Sounds like people are still miserable there. Horrible sweat shop.”
Sonnie was half listening. She removed her glasses and stared at the woman talking on her phone. “Does she have to talk so loud? I mean, she’s not talking through a fucking tin can on a string.” Sonnie glanced around her and noted that others in the coffee shop were staring as well. “We should all get together and drop that cell into her latte.”
Angie looked over at the woman and then back to Sonnie. “She just doesn’t know.”
“What were you saying about Ron?” Sonnie leaned back in her chair. “That he’s a prick?” She grinned.
Angie looked at her and swooned. She still had a little crush on Sonnie. Her almond eyes and smooth skin. A sweet crush. Like one you’d have on a puppy or something. “I was just saying he wrote a nice note after all that stuff happened. I mean, at least he made an effort.”
“I guess that’s something.” Sonnie slid a hand over her side. “I wish I recorded you going off on him. That was beautiful.” She giggled. “I didn’t know you could curse like that. Ron’s face.” She laughed harder. She had enjoyed the show immensely until she realized that Angie was truly out of control. Then the scene lost it’s humor. She had cried with Angie was dragged out of the building and into the ambulance. She shook her head and tried not to think about it.
Angie blushed. “I usually don’t, but he shouldn’t treat people that way.” She sipped and collected her thoughts. “When I went…all loopy? And ate that money and said all those things to Ron.”
“And dumped the copier on the floor and broke the coffee pot while saying everyone needed to e treated like humans and not cattle? I remember something about that, yes.” Sonnie smiled. They had talked through the events that lead up to Angie going “bat-shit-crazy” and it was an open forum for discussion now that the therapy sessions were chilling Angie out. “What about it?”
“I don’t think anyone but you got it, really. The fact that I wasn’t crazy BEFORE working there.” Angie frowned and thought for a moment. “I think they still don’t understand or think it was other pressures that caused it. You know?”
“I think more know than you think. We’ve talked about it some.” Sonnie shrugged. “People are rather complacent, however. I’m not sure they know it’s not the same everywhere. I mean, work is still work even at my new gig, but I don’t feel like burning the place down.”
“Well, you got out.” Angie smiled. “I’m glad.”
“Well, I just don’t want to play those games anymore. They treated you horribly. You didn’t deserve that.” Sonnie finally lost it. She looked over to the cell phone lady and waved at her. “Could you please be a little more quiet? Just a bit?” She made a motion to the others seated around them.
The woman was startled and looked at Sonnie dumbly for a moment before making a wincing face when it became clear. She mouthed Sorry and waved. Her voice dropped to a softer level immediately and her face was bright red.
“See, she didn’t know.” Angie smiled her wide smile again and Sonnie nodded.
“Guess not.” Sonnie smiled over at the woman, then looked down at her hands. “I wish I wasn’t a bitch all the time.”
“You’re not.”
“No, I pretty much am.” Sonnie laughed. “I guess I just don’t have the same feeling about people that you have. I pretty much think they are all just fucking assholes for the most part. You have this up with people thing I just can’t get a grip on. I don’t know.” She sighed and looked out into the street.
“You were a total sweetheart with all my stuff, Sonnie. Right? You stayed with me and made sure I was ok. You took days off.” Angie patted her hand, then removed it quickly. “You were really nice.”
Sonnie snatched up her purse and removed her credit card. She was uncomfortable. Angie knew the signs.
“I’ll still think of you as some evil, Asian bitch if you want me to. I know you’re pretty attached to that.” Angie grinned.
Sonnie rolled her eyes. “Blah blah blah.” She held the check out to the waiter who took it after sneaking a peek at Sonnie’s blouse. “Your therapy tricks won’t work on me.” She finished the rest of her coffee as she watched the waiter walk away. Her eyes narrowed a bit, then she let her carnal thoughts go. “How’s that going, anyway? The therapy and all?”
“I don’t wake up crying anymore. My Dad and I are talking again. I’m even thinking about taking that position at TCC. The offer is still open.”
“Whoa, pace yourself. You’ll be a valid member of society again and won’t want to hang out with me anymore.” Sonnie slid her glasses onto the top of her head.
“I’ll still go slumming with you from time to time for free coffee.”
“Just for that you’re paying for the movie and popcorn.” Sonnie winked and reapplied her lipstick. Angie noticed that it happened to be right when the waiter – a talk, Greek looking guy with blue eyes and dark hair – returned with the check.
“Have a nice day, Ladies.” He smiled.
Sonnie dragged the lipstick over her bottom lip, pressed her lips together, then smiled sweetly to him. “Thanks.” Sonnie watched him stroll off again. “Greek.” She pursed her lips and made a little low growing sound.
“You’re hilarious.” Angie shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“What?” Sonnie tried to look innocent, but couldn’t quiet pull it off. “Come on.” She stood and slid her purse up onto her shoulder.
Angie moved along behind her as Sonnie made her way through the patio and out to the sidewalk. She pointed down the street. “I’ll drive.” Sonnie made her way down the sidewalk then stole a glance at Angie. She looked like a teenager. Small and tucked tightly into herself so she wouldn’t occupy too much space. She knew Angie was better, but also knew there was more to work out for sure.
“I want a drink too. Maybe one of those meals with a little box of popcorn and candy and a soda in a cute little container?”
“Sounds good.” Angie mustered a smile.
Sonnie grabbed the back of Angie’s neck and shook it softly, then dragged a hand over the top of her head. “You’re doing good.”
“Easy, you’re out of character. You’re being nice.”
The two of them laughed and made they way to the car.

The Waiting Room

High ceilings. Tan walls. Slowly turning fans circulating the air. Several rows of frosted windows let in light, but do not show what is outside the large room. Those inside don’t seem concerned about the outside, if there is an outside at all. The room is quiet and somewhat still, thought some of the figures move through the room – restless as they wait. Jazz music plays at a subliminally low level.
Florescent lights flicker overhead and bathe the figures beneath them with an off white light. The inhabitants shift awkwardly in green plastic seats and try to get as comfortable as they can for the seemingly long wait ahead of them. The room is large and the rows of chairs are mostly occupied. Some figures even sit on the floor – perhaps more comfortable there than on the ridged, uncomfortable seats provided.
The murmur of conversation hums steadily, but rarely goes above a respectable level. The water fountain in the corner returns the hum of the room as a woman leans over and drinks from it. She has ample curves and shimmering blonde hair. Her lips purse as she laps at the cool water that jets from the water fountain. She is completely nude.
Something crashes on the tile flooring in the back of the room and heads turn. The man in the back raises his hand and waves. “Sorry.” He picks up a large, automatic rifle from the tile floor, waves again with an embarrassed look on his face and returns to his seat. He settles the weapon in his lap and glances at a slip of paper in his hand, avoiding eye contact.
A small, round man slips through a set of double doors and comes out to the tiny office area at the front of the room. The rooms focus shifts as he scans the group before him and adjusts his glasses before turning and moving to the metal file cabinet to the right. Eyes filled with hope follow him.
A few members of the assembly lean forward. Others stand and take a quick look at the slips of paper they hold.
The man removes a folder and slides the file drawer shut. He scans the group again and counts quietly. “…thirty…thirty-one….thirty…um…forty-five…” He sniffs and shakes his head, turns, and moves out of the office pen and back through the double doors.
Several members of the group moan audibly. Others curse.
“I don’t buh-believe this. Th-This is taking forever,” a slim man stutters and twists the knot of his tie. He wipes his brow with the back of his jacket and taps his foot rhythmically in an agitated manor. Something drifts past him and disappears into a shimmer of smoke. He doesn’t acknowledge it. “I mean – right?” He looks up to the nude woman as she takes a seat next to him. “Th-This is just sssilly. Wu-Waiting th-this long?”
The woman runs her hands down her thighs then leans back and crosses her legs. She glances at the slip of paper in her hand before shifting her gaze to the man. “Yeah, well….” Her voice is like syrup. There’s a tinge of a New York accent deep within it. She drags a hand through her hair, looks up to the ceiling and frowns, then bites her lower lip. “Uh, I guess. I mean, it’s been a while.” She shrugs and folds her arms over her bosom. Her skin looks like porcelain under the fluorescents. She watches as a man dressed in robes leads a horse past her and the stuttering man at her side. The man whispers to the horse in Hebrew, though the woman doesn’t have a clue what language it is. Why would she?
The woman’s platinum blonde hair falls in front of one eye and she resembles Veronica Lake. She whispers, “Pretty horse.” She re-crosses her legs and breathes out a sigh.
A man and woman kiss passionately in the far corner of the room. She wears jeans and a t-shirt and her hair is cut short and dyed pink. He wears a business suit and large, fuzzy slippers in the shape of bears heads – his feet slipped into their open mouths.
At the back of the room, a woman in some sort of armor space suit presses the buttons H and 4 on a vending machine and watches as a small, metal coil rotates slowly and moves a bag of chips forward. The bag reaches the end of its aisle then hangs for an instant before dropping. It gets caught on the way down between a package of popcorn and the glass. She grumbles and slams her fist into the machine. The loud bang makes heads turn again. The bag drops and she flips the door up and retrieves it. She doesn’t apologies for the noise. She turns and leans against the wall. “I can’t get enough of these. So good.” She pulls the edges of the bag and it pops open. She removes her glove and tucks it into her belt, then reaches into t with a smile playing on her lips. “Like a spicy, chille flavor corn chip. Pretty damn good.”
The zombie facing her nods and blinks his one remaining eye. His flesh is sickly grey and rotted to the muscle and bone in some spots. His clothing is covered with dirt.
“Yeah, those are good. Have you tried the Sun Chips, though? I think they are better for you. Less salt and a better oil? Something like that.” He wipes a bit of spittle from what remains of his lower lip. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” She crunches another chip, then offers the bag out to the grey figure before her. He declines a chip and she reaches into the bag again. “They’re pretty good too, but I prefer these. They aren’t that bad for you overall.”
The zombie nods and glances around the room. His eye drops to the slip of paper in his hand, then back to the space woman. “Yeah.” He nods absently. “Is this all metal here?” He points a rotted finger to the woman’s shoulder pad.
“Carbon core silicone weaves.” She nods and drops three chips into her mouth. “It’s lighter,” she mumbles through the chips.
Something stomps past. It’s eight-foot frame blocks the light for a moment as it passes. The thing cocks its head and sniffs the air. It’s eyes narrow and it crouches down to scratch it’s foot before moving to the far right side of the room. It takes a seat next to a brunette wearing bright red running pants and a sweatshirt with “Born To Run” written across the front in gold letters.
She looks at the werewolf beside her and shifts in her seat slightly to give it more room.
It looks down at her and slides its legs out to the side, leaning out and away from her a bit. Its maw is somewhat short and its nose is dark and wet. Its grey hair is neat and not too long. Pointed ears poke off of its head at the sides. I has broad shoulders and long, muscular arms. It opens its mouth and a row of sharp teeth glisten as it’s steel blue eyes lock on her. “Sorry, do you have enough room? I can move over a bit.”
“No, no – I’m fine thanks.” She smiles.
The werewolf licks its lips. “They call H38 yet?” Its looks towards the office pen.
“Not since I’ve been here,” she says as she slips the baseball cap forward on her head. The werewolf’s breath smells like meat, but she tries to ignore it.
He looks back to the baseball cap girl and his fingers tap on his hairy knee. “They called that girl with the baseball bat WAY before me, but I thought I was here first, you know?” The werewolf scratches its side with a massive hand. Claw tipped fingers rake through the fur there. “I guess that’s not how it works. Not sure what’s up, really. I thought it was pretty clear that I was here first though. But…you know.” It huffs out a sigh and holds up it’s hands in resignation.
The girl shrugs.
The werewolf nods and leans back in its seat. “Yup yup yup….”
The short, round man pushes through the double doors again.
Again, the crowd in the room comes to a hush and all focus moves to the little round man as he moves to the front of the office pen, this time avoiding the file cabinet.
A woman dressed in a business suit stands and grabs up her briefcase hopefully as a small S.W.A.T. team stands at attention next to her. Their leader waves his hand. “Shh…quiet down, people.” He holds up their ticket with a gloved hand.
The office man clears his throat and grips a small, silver microphone that sits on the desk at the front. He presses the button on the side and leans into it. “C89? C89, please?”
The room lets out many disenchanted, yet subtle groans of disappointment. All but one go back to what they were doing.
A woman with short, dark hair moves towards the office pen and holds up her slip. “C89 – right here.” Her voice is matter of fact and quiet. She slips past a small group of dogs and they all wag their tails. She slips past them and moves forward. Someone blocks her and she whispers, “Pardon me.”
A man covered in blood smiles at her and moves his paper aside so she can pass. “Sorry.”
The woman makes her way to the front desk and hands her slip to the office man. She smiles politely.
He checks the number and smiles back. “Good, good.” He slides the ticket into a slot on the desk and gestures to her. “Now, you ate a dime before, right?”
She nods brightly. “Yes. In a coffee shop.” She touches her stomach, then raises her hands and makes small quote marks in the air with her fingers. “It’s inside my body right now.” She smirks.
“I see. I see. Fine.” He motions to the side. “Ok, will you please step around to the gate? I’ll let you though.” He points and smiles.
The woman nods and makes her way down the aisle towards the small gate. She waves back to the waiting room occupants as she passes through the tiny, batwing doors and a few people wave back begrudgingly.
“Ta-totally unfair…” the stuttering man whispers as she moves out of the room through the double doors. He looks over his shoulder to the row of chairs behind him where an anthropomorphic dog sits reading The Three Musketeers. “Right?”
The dog looks up from the book and glances at the man, then to the double doors as the swing closed. He shrugs and says, “Well, what are you gonna do?” and then goes back to reading.