Just as I walked outside, the bus passed by.
Now I had to walk. It was only about a mile and the weather was nice so I couldn’t complain. The hole in my jacket felt like it was getting bigger and bigger every day. My finger slipped through it, rubbing the fabric between my fingers. I told myself that I had to remember not to put money in that pocket again. Last time I was out eighty bucks. I knew I should’ve just bought a new jacket but I liked that one. It was perfectly worn and it was mine. Why should I part with it?
The sunlight flooded the sidewalk as I strolled to the shopping center up ahead. Still clutching the package, I wondered what was inside this time.
I pulled the door and stepped inside. A quick scan of the room revealed a few stragglers and loungers tapping away on their laptops. Some read their douchebag literature while others were slaves to the text messages on their phones.
I moved like a cat towards the bathroom, briefly connecting eyes with the barista. She was cute. I closed the bathroom door behind me and leaned back against it.
Without delay my hands moved along the package, ripping open its outer shell. She didn’t leave an address on the package, once again. I didn’t know her name. I didn’t know where she lived. Nothing. All I had to go on was that she knew me, wanted to see me, and had been contacting me via mail for the past year. The postal stamp was from Madison but I knew whoever this chick was, if she didn’t put her return address, she probably drove to Madison to mail it.
The bathroom was spic and span. I felt bad for treading in with my dirty shoes.
Alright here we go. I snatched at the envelope, tossing a few of the pieces into the garbage as I moved along. Inside the package I found the usual gold metallic envelope, a dirty magazine, and one of my old films Concockshun. I remembered shooting that one.
I studied the photo of me naked with a small apron around my waist, stirring up something in a big metal bowl. I always thought it was the worst idea, ever. What the hell is a porn star stirring up on the front cover of a DVD? I was no baker. Shouldn’t I have been deep in the middle of some hot action with the big, bold words covering up our nether regions?
I had cake icing on my dick for two days trying to wash it all off. Looking down at an old version of me on the cover shook me a little. I wondered if I’d ever be the same. Before losing it all. Or at least when I thought I had it all.
I flipped through one of the magazines she included. Every breast fetishist’s dream. Every page scored with seductive gazes and large tits. I checked my watch, it was almost one o’clock. I slipped everything back in the envelope and headed out.
The barista leaned behind the counter bored out of her mind. She had long black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her bracelet and rubber band littered wrists caught my eye. A small star tattoo guarded the inside of her wrist. She wore a white polo shirt, stained with coffee and confections. I was guessing she had four roommates and drank forty ounces at home because they’re more bang for your buck.
She watched me as I approached the counter. I glanced up at the menu board for an idea of what I wanted. I caught her straightening her apron in the corner of my eye. Women always did this when I came around, I was used to it. They straightened their clothes, made sure their hair was perfect, licked their lips, the whole nine.
“Hi, what can I get for you today sir?”
“A large coffee please.”
I stuck with old faithful instead of venturing out into flavors. She shuffled to get a paper cup.
“You come here a lot don’t you? I mean, I see you sometimes. You should smile more. I bet you have a nice smile,” she said.
Not up for much of a conversation, I respond just because.
“At least something about me is nice. Thank you.”
She handed me my coffee. I tried to pay but she didn’t accept.
“My treat. It’s good to see you.”
I tried to split.
“What’s your name by the way?”
“You look so familiar to me.”
I forced a smile and walked away. It would hit her later on that night when she washed dishes or brushed her hair while listening to some crappy emo-punk.
She’s seen my porn. Everyone has.