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I bow my head at Mr. Page, hiding my shaking hands behind my waist. “Thank you.”
He shakes his head, a sad frown tugging at his lips. “You think you know people, but you don’t.” Muttering, he grabs his coffee and crosses the room, making his way out of the shop. “Hope the rest of your night is better, Ms. Jane. You don’t deserve these people.”
I’m silent, frozen in place on the padded mat behind the lone counter. The moment he passes the front windows, I jump into action, winding my way around to the lobby and locking the double doors.
With the numbness comes frantic lists of what needs to happen next. Like, I’ll need to leave a note for Henry so he can notify the district manager, and I’ll need to warn Stacy before she clocks in. Joey wasbanned, explicitly and with witnesses, but he still came back to intimidate me. What if he’s a complete psycho and robs the place during the day shift?
Hell, what if he comes back for me tonight?
I double-check that the door is securely locked and place a handwritten note on it before finding refuge in the bathroom. After shutting myself inside, I turn toward the mirror.
My cheeks are flushed, and the dark circles beneath my eyes are extra visible. I almost had them under control before things at work got dicey, causing me to lose the sleep I had caught up on.
Otherwise, I appear as normal as ever.
I’m attractive in the traditional, feminine, chubby sort of way. My chest is prominent, but it often leads to discomfort and unwanted male attention. My hair is blonde, wavy, and casual. The size of my nose is regular. My lips are symmetrical.
There are a million other beautiful, kind women in New York, and yet shitty Joey chose me to be his personal target.
Fucking night shift.
I give myself thirty minutes to sit on the closed toilet and absorb my shock. It doesn’t take long. Living in the city has taught me a lot about the real world. Like how some men are assholes, and others are the gentle type. Take Mr. Page, for example. He’s never even glanced at my tits while ordering his coffee-no-cream-extra-sugar. Regardless, with either type, it’s better to be safe rather than sorry.
Joey isn’t the first man to accost me since moving here. There are new instances on my way to work almost every night. None have been brave enough to touch me, but still.
I should be used to this by now. What had I expected when I left little ole North Carolina for the big apple?
It is what it is.
I inhale long and deep before exiting the bathroom and unlocking the lobby doors.
Three more people come inside the café, and only two of them order anything. I let the third man, a young homeless guy, rest his eyes in the booth until ten minutes before my replacement arrives. We’re supposed to kick people like him out, but I don’t have the heart.
I was in his position not too long ago. Maybe I wasn’t as disheveled, but still lost, nonetheless.
Stacy, my co-worker, enters the store with a brush still lodged in her hair, eyes red. She doesn’t acknowledge me at first, but I’ve learned not to take it personally. Stacy needs coffee before she can have polite conversation, and like me, she only drinks the free brew we’re allotted while on the clock.
When she finally mopes her way toward the register to log in, I recount the night’s big scare. “Joey came in again. I think he threatened me.”
Her eyes widen, fingers flying over the touchscreen as she types in her password. “Henry’s gonna be pissed.” She grabs an apron and shoves the strap over her head. “Are you okay?”
I nod, trying to smile. Fake it till you make it, right? “I had another customer here, and he defended me, luckily. I don’t know what would’ve happened if I were alone. He seemed pretty unhinged.”
Stacy shakes her head, pursing her lipstick covered lips. “I told Henry not to put a pretty young thing like you on third shift. He doesn’t care about risks as long as he gets to sleep through the night.”
My eyes float to the help wanted sign plastered on our window. “Maybe he’ll hire a new person soon. He said he’ll switch me to second shift as soon as someone gets trained.”
Stacy rolls her eyes. “Hmm. I’m sure he will, buttercup. Now go home and get your beauty rest before you turn into an old hag like me.” She winks and picks up her coffee, lifting it to her thin lips.
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. After scrawling a note on the back of a receipt and pinning it to the manager’s computer, I grab my bag, clock out, and leave the shop with a wave goodbye to Stacy.
As I walk the six blocks back to my apartment, the sun rises. All the troublemakers have crashed, and the world is quiet. There’re echoing honks from a major street nearby, but even that feels worlds away. The sky is brightening, coloring the sidewalk with its pink-ish glow. The sight is beautiful, but since working all hours of the night for the last year, the sun’s presence makes me sleepy.
I love watching it rise, but afterward, I’m as dead as a doorknob.
By the time I make it to my building, my legs feel like solid chunks of iron. I’m tired, depressed, and ready to put this day behind me. Normally I’d take the stairs up, getting my cardio in as I truck up to the sixth story, but not today.
I smash the elevator button like my life depends on it. It opens a second later, and I step inside, leaning against the far wall. My head falls backward, connecting with the mirrored wall a little too hard, but I don’t have a care left to give. I let my eyes slide shut, giving in to the few seconds of peace I have until I get to my room.
