Monday June 24 2013

Carine Brancowitz.[i]

Waking up at 11:10 a.m.

Peaches, Strawberries, and Banana Smoothie from Tropical Smoothie.

All day shift at China Wok.

Everything Bagel with Peanut Butter. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

My eyes tend to wander while driving around the city, especially in the summertime, when eye candy is rampant along the sidewalk, most anywhere I turn. I can't help that females visually stimulate me. It's in my nature. It's okay to admire from afar.

On 57th Street where all those summer duplexes are. I pull up in front of an apartment but there seems to be an error on my ticket so I call the customer. Meanwhile, a short girl with a lit up face, a ponytail, and a small guitar strapped to her back is stepping out a front door to another apartment. She smiles at me as if we might know each other but we don't. She goes back inside. I walk over a few houses down to deliver the food. When I return to my car she comes out again and with that same smile.

Her: "Is that a Taurus?"

I pause to organize all the coin change the customer just handed me. I guess she's admiring the purple paint job.

"No. It's a Toyota...Camry," I reply.

Her: "I like it."

Me: "Thanks."

She paces onward through the grass but looks back and smiles once more. There was an energy happening I could've done something about, a movie-like scene that was missing a script. But I guess that little moment was only meant for that time and place – a missed connection that was meant to stay a missed connection. I like that.

Having to drive deep into Kings Grant, on Sir George Circle. I've already had to drive hella far with my other orders. This girl tips me $2. I've been getting this caliber of tips most of the day. Frustrated I talk to myself in the car as I drive off...

"Why do people think two dollars is a good tip? It's not ideal at all! It's mediocre, and one step away from being a shitty tip."

This heat is making me miserable.

Delivering an order to Latitudes Apartments. An attractive girl with dirty blonde hair, a jean skirt, and adorned with silver bracelets is standing near the front door of the apartment I'm supposed to deliver to. She's busying herself on the phone. The door is open.

"Do you live here?" I ask.

Girl: "Oh no. I'm just waiting for someone."

I announce through the door to an older man sitting in a recliner that I've got Chinese food. He comes over to settle up with me. Meanwhile, a tall muscular young white dude hastily demands the girl to come in.

"Get the fuck in here already!" he scolds and yells. "You're fucking frustrating me!"

The girl snickers, obviously a little embarrassed, a defense mechanism I suppose. His anger blindsided all of us except the older man I assume to be his father. This girl must be seeing the guy. I can't imagine that it's a sister-brother relationship. But God, what could she have possibly done to warrant such hostile words?

The night is dwindling. I can't wait for this day to end. It's a tad bit busier than usual for a Monday. The second driver, Cliff, even had to stay until 10 o'clock.


Egg Fried Rice with Mixed Vegetables.

James and Laron waltz into the house, and just in time cause I need help scooping up a free couch I found earlier tonight. It's a yellow old school one with a pullout bed. I grab James and we use every ounce of muscle we have to lug it from Wolfsnare to here, with my car of course. I snag some bagels from the dumpster too. We retire the gray couch and put in the new one. I didn't have it in me to replace the red couch, which has been with us for almost 4 years.

Sleep 4 a.m.

[i] Carine Brancowitz.

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