your assistance is needed at the electrical box,” came a voice from the intercom. A disgruntled DayDay headed in that direction.
“Dumb-ass white people,” he muttered as he went. “Don’t wanna spend the proper money on shit, so a nigga gotta go get the ladder and climb his ass up the top of that shit and fix the lights. Always calling DayDay, and DayDay gotta be all ‘yes, massa, be right there, massa.’ I oughtta kill these white niggas.”
“Make sure you videotape it for me, baby!” Ronda shouted to him. It seemed like she was kidding, but then again, I never really knew.
“See, man, this is why there’s a gun in my locker. You never know what a crazy person is capable of. Shit, he might try to shoot my ass right here in aisle nine,” Frank said, half joking.
“What the hell is wrong with you, man?”
“You know what’s wrong with me? I need to get laid! Now go ask Rachel for me, okay?!”
“I don’t understand why you just won’t ask her yourself, Frank. Damn!” I told him, a bit pissed off.
“Bro, we’ve been through this. I’m trying to take a different approach. Rachel is a smart-ass and I’m trying to bypass that side of her, y’know. Play a little hard to get. Tug at those heart strings, fam!” Frank paused and gave me a look that said do you feel me?
There was silence for a moment.
“I just don’t understand why you play these games with women. I mean, Rachel isn’t exactly a nun. I’m sure if you went up to her and were honest and clear about what you wanted, it would work out. Tell her you want a good time, no strings attached . . . especially heart strings! Be straight up. I think she would be about it, man.”
Frank snagged a banana from produce and began to peel it. “Bro, you’re thinking way too much into this. Just do me this solid and go tell her your friend Frank likes her, okay?”
I was tired of trying to reason with Frank. He wasn’t a reasonable dude. I decided just to get this shit over with and move on with my day. With that, I was on my way.
I reached the break room, and sure enough Rachel was there. Only this time, she was not accompanied by Becca. She was completely alone.
“Hey,” I said to her.
“Hey . . . Flynn,” she said in a tone that said she didn’t give two shits about engaging in a conversation with me. She was reading Cosmopolitan, her lips red as ever and hair darker than Frank’s sense of humor.
“Look, a buddy of mine wanted me to tell you he likes you.”
Her face was hidden by the magazine. 26 SEX TIPS THAT WILL BRING HIM TO THE EDGE was printed in bold on the corner of the cover.
She lowered the magazine, revealing dark eyes beneath her bangs.
“Oh, you have a friend, huh?” she said as she set the magazine down. Her mouth curled into a smile. She stood up and walked over to me. She was close, almost too close. Even in her dorky store uniform she looked fine as hell.
“Yeah, my buddy. His name is Frank.” She stared at me, puzzled.
“Oh . . . okay,” she said, seeming a little let down.
“Yeah, he works in the store,” I said.
“Do you guys spend a lot of time together?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah. Well, at work, anyway.”
“So this Frank . . . how old is he?”
I thought for a moment. “About my age,” I said, grabbing a paper cup on top of the water cooler. “Look, either way, he wanted me to tell you that he’s into you and you guys should hang out sometime. Maybe grab a bite.”
Rachel bit her lip.
“Fuck it . . . why not?” she said. She ripped part of a page from her magazine and scribbled down her number. She put her hand on my elbow, and looked up at my face, surveying my features.
“You have pretty eyes, Flynn. You look like a tortured artist,” she said.
“Uhmm, thank you?” I said.
“Tell him to call me,” she said, handing me the scrap of paper.
Then she walked out of the room.
I looked at the number and put it in my right pocket. I couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed that I just did Frank’s job for him. But I was also a little turned on by the whole encounter. Just then, Mia walked into the break room.
“There’s my boy,” she said with