NaNoWriMo – Day 4 (11/04/2005)
“Is there anything I can do?”
“You’ve done so much already. I can hardly tell you how much that means to me.”
“What have I done?”
I blush. I feel like I’m being really sappy and I hope he doesn’t think I’m coming on to him. “You’ve just been yourself; offered coffee to a stranger who needed it; offered a smile; you care, and you don’t even know me. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you look like you’re having a rough day and I thought I might be able to make it just a little better.”
“I know. That’s exactly what I mean. I just broke up with my boyfriend. We’ve been living together for the last two years and last night I found out that he’s been cheating on me the entire time. Last week I lost my job because I don’t have enough education to qualify for the new company standard; I had to drop out of school last year because I couldn’t afford the tuitions anymore because I have a crappy job.” I let out another long sigh. “Had a crappy job,” I correct myself. “Now I have no job and nowhere to live. I have no clue what I’m going to do.”
“It certainly sounds like you’ve had a rough week, that’s for sure. Is there anything I can do to help you out?”
“Unless you know someone who is looking for a hard-working assistant or has a cheap place to stay, I think you’ve probably done enough. Really, you’ve been so nice to me.”
“Well, I don’t know about the place to stay, but I might be able to help you out with a job. My company is looking for an assistant/secretary type person to help out around the office. I don’t know how much it would pay, but I could certainly put in a good word for you, if that would help? And if you plan on sleeping on the streets, I’d much rather you used my couch, although I’m pretty sure my wife wouldn’t like it.”
“You’re married.”
“Yes, for the last 12 years. But I’m serious. If you really don’t have anywhere to stay, no friends or family that can help you out for a few nights while you get things figured out, I’d rather you slept on my couch than on the street.”
“Why are you doing all of this for me?”
“All I’ve done really done so far is given you some fresh coffee. It’s up to you if you want to come in and inquire about the job. Here’s my card,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a business card. As I take it from him, I intentionally brush the top of his fingers with my hand. I don’t know why, but I want to be connected to him somehow. “Simon. Nice to meet you Simon,” I say, holding out my hand. “I’m Sara.”
We shake. “Nice to meet you, Sara.”
“Thank you, so much. Do you think it would be okay if I came by this afternoon?”
“I don’t see why not. Listen,” he says gathering his things together and putting away his coffee thermos, “my stop is coming up next so I’ve got to get going. If you’re going to come in, today or another day, just give me a call first. My direct line is on the card. I can meet you at reception and make sure that someone is able to see you for a few minutes about the position. You can also let me know about the couch … just give me a few hours notice if you need it, because I’m going to have to figure out how to tell Vanessa.” He winks.
“You think she’ll mind?”
“Mind? If I asked her to let a woman ten years younger than me, who I just met on the bus and started a conversation with, who I may be helping to get a job at my company where we’d be seeing each other on a daily basis, and who also happens to be quite beautiful, sleep on our couch? Mind? You haven’t met Vanessa.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” I remind him. All I can think about is that he thinks I’m beautiful.
“Yes, she’ll mind. But that’s not the important thing here … the important thing is that you not be sleeping on the street.” He reaches up and pulls the stop indicator line. “This is me.”
I stand up and move out of the way so that he can get out of the seat. He is just a little taller than me and I find myself looking directly into his eyes, standing face-to-face in the aisle of the bus as the driver pulls over to the curb.
“Thank you,” I tell him. Without thinking about it, I lean forward on my toes and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
“It was just a cup of coffee,” he says again. “The rest is up to you.”
He readjusts his briefcase and his shoulder-bag, gives me one final look and joins the other people heading off the bus. As the bus driver closes the doors and starts to pull away from the curb I sit down and look at the business card in my hands. Simon Cunningham. My heart is beating fast and heavy.
Adam
“Hey, Simon! Good morning! We don’t normally see you in this early.” There is an insinuation there, but I don’t mean too much by it. Simon’s a decent guy and he works hard enough.
“Morning Adam. How’s your week been?”
“Good, good. Can’t complain I guess.”
“Well you could, but nobody’d listen,” he says. It’s one of his favourite sayings … and one of his better ones, too. Simon’s always making little jokes, but most of them aren’t all that funny.
“So, who was that girl you were talking to on the bus?” I ask him. “That was a nice kiss she gave you on the bus.” He blushes, which is exactly the response I was looking for.
“Her name’s Sara. I just met her this morning, actually. She was crying when she sat down beside me, and wet from standing in the rain, so I offered her some coffee. Turns out she’s having a pretty bad morning.”
“But I bet you made it all better, didn’t you?” I say, teasing him. “Maybe a little wink-wink-nudge-nudge under your umbrella on the bus?”
“Adam, I’m not carrying an umbrella.” I can’t tell if he’s being intentionally dense, or if he’s playing along with me. “She might come by the office later to apply for the office assistant position.”
I bet that’s not the only position you’d like to see her in, I think. Certainly not the only position I’d like to see her in, that’s for damn sure. She was a little ragged-looking, puffy eyes, and soaking wet, but damn if she didn’t have a cute little ass tucked into those jeans. And besides, I kinda like my girls to be a little on the needy side. Makes ‘em want me even more.
We’re approaching the office and I see Cindy in Marketing walking by herself up ahead. “Listen, Simon, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? I need to talk to Cindy about a project we’re working on. Meetings and deadlines and all that. Catch you later, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
Harold
“Spare some change?” Asshole, didn’t even look at me. “Could you spare some change ma’am?” A shake of the head and she keeps on walking. Am I that scary—or that depressing—that people can’t even look at me? “Spare change sir?” He stops and looks at me.
“Let me see what I’ve got today,” he says, digging into his pockets.
“Everything helps,” I tell him honestly. “Thanks for stopping. Most people don’t bother looking, let alone stopping. Sometimes I just wish people would say ‘hello’ even if they can’t afford to give me any coins.
“It must be pretty frustrating,” he says. He sounds like he means it.
“Yep.”
“Listen, I’ve only got about 70 cents on me right now, but if you’re going to be around later this afternoon, I can try and get you something else after work.” He drops the coins into my cup and they rattle against the pittance I’ve managed to accumulate this morning. Thank God the morning rush hasn’t peaked yet, or I’d be in for one hell of day.
“Like I say, everything helps. Thanks for stopping.”
Looking me right in the eye, he says, “My pleasure. Try and have a good day, okay?”
“I’ll do that. Thanks again.” He turns and walks towards the office complex behind me.
“Spare some change, ma’am?”
Today’s word count: 1470
Cumulative word count: 7078
“You’ve done so much already. I can hardly tell you how much that means to me.”
“What have I done?”
I blush. I feel like I’m being really sappy and I hope he doesn’t think I’m coming on to him. “You’ve just been yourself; offered coffee to a stranger who needed it; offered a smile; you care, and you don’t even know me. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you look like you’re having a rough day and I thought I might be able to make it just a little better.”
“I know. That’s exactly what I mean. I just broke up with my boyfriend. We’ve been living together for the last two years and last night I found out that he’s been cheating on me the entire time. Last week I lost my job because I don’t have enough education to qualify for the new company standard; I had to drop out of school last year because I couldn’t afford the tuitions anymore because I have a crappy job.” I let out another long sigh. “Had a crappy job,” I correct myself. “Now I have no job and nowhere to live. I have no clue what I’m going to do.”
“It certainly sounds like you’ve had a rough week, that’s for sure. Is there anything I can do to help you out?”
“Unless you know someone who is looking for a hard-working assistant or has a cheap place to stay, I think you’ve probably done enough. Really, you’ve been so nice to me.”
“Well, I don’t know about the place to stay, but I might be able to help you out with a job. My company is looking for an assistant/secretary type person to help out around the office. I don’t know how much it would pay, but I could certainly put in a good word for you, if that would help? And if you plan on sleeping on the streets, I’d much rather you used my couch, although I’m pretty sure my wife wouldn’t like it.”
“You’re married.”
“Yes, for the last 12 years. But I’m serious. If you really don’t have anywhere to stay, no friends or family that can help you out for a few nights while you get things figured out, I’d rather you slept on my couch than on the street.”
“Why are you doing all of this for me?”
“All I’ve done really done so far is given you some fresh coffee. It’s up to you if you want to come in and inquire about the job. Here’s my card,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a business card. As I take it from him, I intentionally brush the top of his fingers with my hand. I don’t know why, but I want to be connected to him somehow. “Simon. Nice to meet you Simon,” I say, holding out my hand. “I’m Sara.”
We shake. “Nice to meet you, Sara.”
“Thank you, so much. Do you think it would be okay if I came by this afternoon?”
“I don’t see why not. Listen,” he says gathering his things together and putting away his coffee thermos, “my stop is coming up next so I’ve got to get going. If you’re going to come in, today or another day, just give me a call first. My direct line is on the card. I can meet you at reception and make sure that someone is able to see you for a few minutes about the position. You can also let me know about the couch … just give me a few hours notice if you need it, because I’m going to have to figure out how to tell Vanessa.” He winks.
“You think she’ll mind?”
“Mind? If I asked her to let a woman ten years younger than me, who I just met on the bus and started a conversation with, who I may be helping to get a job at my company where we’d be seeing each other on a daily basis, and who also happens to be quite beautiful, sleep on our couch? Mind? You haven’t met Vanessa.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” I remind him. All I can think about is that he thinks I’m beautiful.
“Yes, she’ll mind. But that’s not the important thing here … the important thing is that you not be sleeping on the street.” He reaches up and pulls the stop indicator line. “This is me.”
I stand up and move out of the way so that he can get out of the seat. He is just a little taller than me and I find myself looking directly into his eyes, standing face-to-face in the aisle of the bus as the driver pulls over to the curb.
“Thank you,” I tell him. Without thinking about it, I lean forward on my toes and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
“It was just a cup of coffee,” he says again. “The rest is up to you.”
He readjusts his briefcase and his shoulder-bag, gives me one final look and joins the other people heading off the bus. As the bus driver closes the doors and starts to pull away from the curb I sit down and look at the business card in my hands. Simon Cunningham. My heart is beating fast and heavy.
Adam
“Hey, Simon! Good morning! We don’t normally see you in this early.” There is an insinuation there, but I don’t mean too much by it. Simon’s a decent guy and he works hard enough.
“Morning Adam. How’s your week been?”
“Good, good. Can’t complain I guess.”
“Well you could, but nobody’d listen,” he says. It’s one of his favourite sayings … and one of his better ones, too. Simon’s always making little jokes, but most of them aren’t all that funny.
“So, who was that girl you were talking to on the bus?” I ask him. “That was a nice kiss she gave you on the bus.” He blushes, which is exactly the response I was looking for.
“Her name’s Sara. I just met her this morning, actually. She was crying when she sat down beside me, and wet from standing in the rain, so I offered her some coffee. Turns out she’s having a pretty bad morning.”
“But I bet you made it all better, didn’t you?” I say, teasing him. “Maybe a little wink-wink-nudge-nudge under your umbrella on the bus?”
“Adam, I’m not carrying an umbrella.” I can’t tell if he’s being intentionally dense, or if he’s playing along with me. “She might come by the office later to apply for the office assistant position.”
I bet that’s not the only position you’d like to see her in, I think. Certainly not the only position I’d like to see her in, that’s for damn sure. She was a little ragged-looking, puffy eyes, and soaking wet, but damn if she didn’t have a cute little ass tucked into those jeans. And besides, I kinda like my girls to be a little on the needy side. Makes ‘em want me even more.
We’re approaching the office and I see Cindy in Marketing walking by herself up ahead. “Listen, Simon, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? I need to talk to Cindy about a project we’re working on. Meetings and deadlines and all that. Catch you later, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
Harold
“Spare some change?” Asshole, didn’t even look at me. “Could you spare some change ma’am?” A shake of the head and she keeps on walking. Am I that scary—or that depressing—that people can’t even look at me? “Spare change sir?” He stops and looks at me.
“Let me see what I’ve got today,” he says, digging into his pockets.
“Everything helps,” I tell him honestly. “Thanks for stopping. Most people don’t bother looking, let alone stopping. Sometimes I just wish people would say ‘hello’ even if they can’t afford to give me any coins.
“It must be pretty frustrating,” he says. He sounds like he means it.
“Yep.”
“Listen, I’ve only got about 70 cents on me right now, but if you’re going to be around later this afternoon, I can try and get you something else after work.” He drops the coins into my cup and they rattle against the pittance I’ve managed to accumulate this morning. Thank God the morning rush hasn’t peaked yet, or I’d be in for one hell of day.
“Like I say, everything helps. Thanks for stopping.”
Looking me right in the eye, he says, “My pleasure. Try and have a good day, okay?”
“I’ll do that. Thanks again.” He turns and walks towards the office complex behind me.
“Spare some change, ma’am?”
Today’s word count: 1470
Cumulative word count: 7078
posted by Paul Keetch at 8:29 AM
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