2010
7:15am |
My body was due for a break, and after I saw Alli again, all I wanted was another six month bender. At least Christmas was coming, and I figured I'd get my first day off in three months, that I might have a chance to try and figure out how to answer the message on the register.
I woke up to a terrible present on Christmas morning.
HANS:
Stop by Safeway and bring Headroom some figgy pudding.
winston:
ur joking
HANS:
This is your job, and I expect you to do it.
I remembered seeing Ricky on the street, knowing I would end up there too if the Dude fired me. That woke me up.
If this is his idea of Christmas, I want to call the Dude a Scrooge, but he's the one who makes references to things, and I don't want to be anything like him.
The next day | 2:45pm |
winston:
stopping for gas
What did "Hans" have to say to that? Nothing. That usually buys me at least a few minutes.
Crossing the five story glass ceilinged lobby of the main library, I couldn't help looking around for video surveillance. I saw nothing obvious, but when I got behind the information desk, I saw a hockey puck-sized disk on the ceiling by the A/V Center. I wonder if public buildings can afford cameras small enough to fit in there.
Past that, there's a bank of computers that keep no record of who uses them, but a bunch of homeless people were already in line for their fifteen minute sessions. I didn't want to get any closer to that, so I went to the elevators.
The doors opened, and someone was facing me with bandages covering cuts all over his face, blood still seeping out from one of them. The library has almost as many human rejects as books. He got off, and I rode to the fifth floor.
The line for the computers there was shorter, and I sat down to wait. I checked my phone. No orders yet, no response at all from Hans. The line moved, and I slid to the next chair over, the only time in my job I was glad nobody made eye contact.
A little ways from the computers was an old vato in a cowboy hat doing what looked like military exercises with his cane. For all I knew, he was the reason the other guy's face was all bloody, but nobody was doing anything about it.
Finally, enough people finished their sessions, and it was my turn. I went to the machine on the end.
The short pock-marked woman at the computer next to me smelled like pee, with two of those big square bags they sell at Trader Joe's. They probably held all she owned.
Start session
I logged into my email for the first time in almost a year. The messages that made it through the spam filter in that time offered me things like "Generic Viargra & Xialis" or a "Rollex Whach." There was a personalized one that used my account name like a real one. "Dear punkdrummer82, Herbal penis max bigger Rx!!!" At least they didn't call me Winston.
I started a new draft, pulled out the business card Acid Burn told me to take and typed in her email.
Subject: was that u did you do that to the starbucks register/
I forgot to press the shift button to type a question mark, but it didn't matter. I thought of asking for her phone number, but the register message said not to use phones. The mouse pointer was already near the send button, so I clicked it.
The timer in the corner of the screen had 12 minutes left in my session.
I checked the phone. Still no new assignments. I tried to think of anything else I could use the internet for, but surfing porn at the public library would just be frustrating. I moved the mouse to "end session."
Another window popped up just before I clicked.
N474113: Online? 4 how long?
I looked around, but nobody was watching me. The old guy in the cowboy hat was gone, but I didn't have time to wonder what happened to him. The new window had a place for me to type. I pecked out the words.
punkdrummer82: who is this/
Her response was fast.
N474113: My name is Natalie N474113: They call me Acid Burn
I started typing in my question again about what happened at the Starbucks, but she was too quick for me.
N474113: Sry abt the strange way of contact N474113: Had 2 get ur attention N474113: Security is tighter than ever
I was right. That was her too. I wondered if they could read this. I typed with determination, finding each letter faster than before.
punkdrummer82: can they read this? N474113: No, but starting 2 read emails N474113: Good no specifics there N474113: Traced you from that N474113: Don't visit same library next time
I wanted to find out how she knew where I was and if that meant other people might find the same thing, but she kept typing hella fast.
N474113: Ur on FB and myspace, but can't post there from here N474113: Tried craigslist missed connections, but u never connected
She finally stopped, so I typed an answer.
punkdrummer82: too busy N474113: I'm setting up support network for the programmers N474113: I can do a lot from here, but its a secret N474113: You can move in and out of locations hardwired to the system
She wrote something about a network, but I had my own problems to worry about. I basically know just enough about computers to copy/paste my answer from before.
punkdrummer82: too busy N474113: Alli looks cool
Then she mentioned Alli. My heart stopped for a second. Did she set me up to meet her at that Starbucks? Maybe she watched us through the surveillance cameras. Could she do that?
N474113: U 2 breke up? punkdrummer82: how u saw her N474113: She was all over ur Facebook page N474113: Not lately tho
Or maybe it was a coincidence.
N474113: I need someone to kiss on new years N474113: & may b more... ;D N474113: don't want 2 make her jealous
I stared at her invitation, remembering her at her computer, robe hanging open, leaning forward in a low-cut top, and I knew I had to find a way to see her.
punkdrummer82: i can make new years N474113: Kool N474113: I work that nite, but worth the risk N474113: Can make t/o if you wanna go for it
She wanted a date. My heart pounded so much, my hands were shaking as I replied.
punkdrummer82: yeah N474113: Come to my place at 9:15 exactly N474113: You remember where it is? punkdrummer82: yes N474113: Cya N474113: Don't tell any1 N474113: & leave ur company phone @ home so the tracking log won't show u here
It turns out, there's a tracking log, and they lowjacked my new Blackberry. That means they know I wasn't at the gas station. They might even know what I was doing right then.
All the windows on the screen disappeared at once.
My knees tensed, ready to run. I backed away slowly, and the next person in line stood up to take my place.
I looked at the clock. My session was just over. I rubbed my eyes. I was paying too much attention to the computer and forgot where I was. I wonder if that's how the people I deliver to feel.
