ONE: WALK MY DOGI don't have much time for much else any more as reporter for the Orlando Herald, I work odd hours sometimes from three in the afternoon to two at night. That night was no different as I finished interviewing a couple who was only free at that time about the burglary patterns happening in their neighbourhood, their house the latest of the crime scenes. I had stopped by at my local twenty-four hour convenience store to pick up some instant noodles and a hot dog to cure my ailing hunger as "my cupboards were bare" as Old Mother Hubbard would say. As my car beeped, indicating everything was secure, I passed by the only other car in the lot, an extravagant and stylish silver Durango, parked just by the entrance. I had never seen this car here before as I came often, especially around this time, where only the occasional "father" would rush in bleary eyed to get his wailing baby his or her milk. I didn't see a father figure anywhere, as the mechanical chime of the automated doors welcomed me into the densely stocked franchise. I felt comfort when I saw that the slurpee machine still had the brown frozen concoction stuck on like dry residue, just like I had seen it two days ago. "Hey Terence" I greeted as I sauntered up to the over weight man with a scraggly grey beard behind the counter. "Haven't they fixed it yet?" I asked, pointing to the slurpee machine which was now inanimate, except for an irritating buzzing in the background, drowned out only by the radio. "Nope" Terence replied shaking his head. "They said it'll take them a couple' a days to get here, and I can't do a thing about it" he replied as he leaned on his arm as he spoke. "I'll be the first one to buy a slurpee from you when it's fixed, just to get you started" I replied, just as a familiar tune pumped out from the radio. "Not this song again!" I cried in exaggerated dismay, rolling my eyes to the ceiling. "Whats it this time? Too much testosterone for your liking?" Terence grinned wickedly, his eyes crinkling up mischievously. "No, it's not that... the tune's as irritating as anything, and I'm not even sure why it's a hit. I mean, how many times must I hear Backstreet's Back? We already know that, they don't have to remind us every time the radio's on " I heard a loud cough from the back of the store and eyed Terence suspiciously. He just shrugged "He's been here for an hour, but the only thing he's bought was a packet of ciggies when he came in. I think he's waiting for the perfect moment to rob me" he whispered as he bent over to my left ear. I laughed lightly as I went to get myself a hot dog from the small ovens which keep the "hot food"...well, hot. I walked into aisle one, and my eyes fell upon some guy in a navy blue tank top, cargos in indelibly scruffy sneakers, who sprawled himself across the linoleum floor like he owned the place. His dark shades hid a world of unrequited intrigue and bland male egotism as he flicked open Who Weekly magazine. I ignored him and got my hot dog, packing on the mustard and ketchup as I grabbed a couple of packets of instant noodles from the shelves and plonked it onto the counter. "And a packet of Marlboro Light thanks" I added as I realised my last cigarette was gone. "Sorry, Min, but he already bought the last pack" Terence shrugged as he pointed to the guy, absorbed in the magazine he was clutching in his hands. I fumed, as I realised I was beaten once again by a male. On top of that, I needed my cigarette fixation... quick. So i did the next thing possible. I sauntered up to the guy, pulling on my least guy-loathing look. " 'Scuse me" I addressed, straining my cheek muscles as I tried to be perky and polite as I had seen my friends do so effortlessly. If I had to do this to get my daily dose of nicotine, I guess my pride would have to come later. Shoulder length brown hair haywire around an oval face, decorated by striking green eyes. Not too petite and not too tall. Thin. I like that Scowl. Ouch. But it's only an expression, it may change. "Yes?' I asked as I raised my eyebrows at her. I have been approached by fans at odd hours and although she looked a little old, I figured she wanted one anyway. "You want my autograph?" I asked as I searched for a pen in my cargo pockets, allowing the pages of Who Weekly to scatter around me. She looked at me like I had announced I was the King of Mesopotamia and opened those full red lips, slightly chapped, but still totally kissable to say something. "Where do you want me to sign?" I questioned again as I pulled on my media face. I smiled at her winningly for a moment, as i stood up expectantly. "Why would I want your autograph?" she demanded rather rudely as I looked at her confused. "I thought..." I began, taking off my sunnies as I looked at her in disbelief. She didn't know who I was? But I can't even walk around Orlando with just a disguise of a hat and shades anymore! But before I could say anything else, she intercepted. "Look, Mr, I don't know who you are and why anyone would want your autograph, but I came over here to ask you if i could buy your cigarettes off you. Terence over there says you bought the last pack." So she's not a fan. Even better. Smiling cattily at her, I pulled out the red and white box and held it up teasingly in front of her. "You mean these?" I asked innocently as I enjoyed watching those expressive green eyes widen in eagerness while she attempted to grab it from my hands. I pulled it away and smiled. If she wanted it so bad, then I guess she'd have to work for it. "I won't make you pay, but you have to walk my dog every day till I get back" I tortured. She rolled her eyes toward the paint splattered ceiling. "You're deranged" she snapped as her eyes fuelled with fury. Funny, very few people look hot when they're mad, but this girl was driving me wild. And I haven't... you know, in a while. This girl had it all and I was hot for her! "Okay, how about this then" I began as I stepped closer, grinning. She glared at me and started to back off a little as I only stepped closer. "You come out with me for breakfast and I'll give you the cigarettes. And I'll pay" I grinned widely. She continued to glare at me, but I didn't care. All I could think of was how much I wanted to feel the touch of a woman close to my body. And at that moment, she was perfect. "You're nuts you know that?" she screamed as she stormed off. Oh well, maybe better luck next time. "One pack of Longbeach" I called out to the cashier as I put one of the much wanted cigarettes out of my pocket and lit it up. "McLean, you're pure evil" Terence commended as he grinned snakily, holding out my change. "What can I say? It's an art" I replied as I laughed, walking out of the convenience store, just as the sun peaked out from beyond the horizon. |
|
©
sayamaru and 'Bittersweet Rhapsodies' 2001-02 No
part of this website may be reproduced in part or in whole without permission of
the author/webmistress. All ideas, graphics and layouts and backgrounds and stories are copyright of sayamaru and Bittersweet Rhapsodies. I am in no way affiliated with the Backstreet Boys, their management wives/girlfriends or the girls used in these stories. |