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He slid on the apron required for work, ran his fingers through his hair, and walked out of the door. The amount of homework was easy for someone who didn't have a job, but to do it once he got back home from work would be hell. So he had grabbed his Art History to get that at least out of the way. It was just reading, so lightening the load a little in such a way (provided that the day wasn't a busy one) would save him time.
Wynn got into the car and drove off. He had been in a slight daze that day, but work was work, and he needed the money. Desperately. It was that or not eating, and he liked to eat. Perhaps a little too much, but his metabolism made up for that. Electricity and water was pretty vital, too. Perhaps he could do without the internet for a while, but he liked that quite a bit.
Yes, so work was necessary.
He pulled into the parking lot at 3.45. Fifteen minutes early. It didn't look busy just yet, but it wasn't rush-hour either. Wynn resorted to pulling out the book and skimming over the text as quickly as he could. It was either that or read a couple of pages, and that would do no good at all, considering that it was only two or three pages out of twenty. Although reading would have been optimum, skimming was the best alternative. Either that or not read it at all. He prayed he'd have time to actually read it. No less, he had skimmed over the text in the alloted fifteen minutes and had carried the book into the door with him as he stepped in right at 3.59. A minute and putting the book away later, and he had already began to busy himself. At least he was only in charge of the drive-thru that night, and didn't have to be concerned with noticeably reading and taking orders at the same time. Even then, however, he had to be careful. Heaven forbid he tried to read something about a venti-sized frappucino dating back from 1873 or try to order someone a small Van Gogh. Some people may not be so amused. Definately not the manager.
But his daze prevented him from getting much of the reading done. Wynn would try, but each time it seemed like it went in one ear and out of the other. He wasn't retaining anything when he actually tried to read it. Once rush-hour had come, at about 4.45, he had quit trying.
Maybe he would show up...
"What size would you like it, miss?`` At the thought of him showing up, his voice gave a slight falter as his heart sped ever so slightly. Shaking his head, he typed into the register quickly what it was the woman at the other side of the drive was ordering. Running through it to make sure he had everything, he gave the price and hit the 'enter` button, waiting for it all to be made.
Next person...
But what if he actually did? Wynn's face flushed. It would only be too perfect. Wait--Would it be perfect at all? No, not really, he decided. It'd just be embarrassing. But why would it be embarrassing? It wasn't like he worked anywhere weird or anything. Besides, he wouldn't show up anyway. There wasn't really anything good for anyone here. Perhaps a bottle of water from the front, or maybe even some kind of juice, but coffee, from the drive-thru no less, wasn't going to suit anyone the likes of him. It was hopeless.
Quit dreaming, Wynn.
Still, throughout the rest of the night he continued to hope. It was only until closing, 1o.oo, that he was disillusioned into realizing that it wasn't going to happen. It was then, only then, that he had finally persuaded himself into believing that it wasn't an event to be.
He gave a sigh and grabbed his book before waving at his co-workers and walking out of the door. In the quiet of the night, he shut the car door and drove off. He grimaced at his infatuated-induced thinking.
There was always tomorrow.
Kecharitomene · Sat Mar 22, 2008 @ 09:49pm · 2 Comments |
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