Shiny Tinfoil -part 4

Tags

Bicycling, Bryan, Cedar Walk Pets, Dinner Date, Hope, Sandy, Tinfoil Series, Work

     His cell phone’s gentle alarm was beeping and Bryan knew that he had to get up. He knew it, but he wasn’t happy about it, especially today. Tired from inadequate sleep, battered from his bike, pedestrian, dog collision just four hours earlier, what he really wanted was to sleep and for his head to stop throbbing.

    “Well, at least nothing else seems to hurt but my head,” he whispered, reaching for his phone.

   “Uhmmm,” he groaned. “So much for nothing else hurting.” Lying still his body was content to only have head throbbing pain but with movement came protestations from the shoulder, hip and knee that had slammed into the asphalt. Who’d have thought that crashing at such slow speeds could cause so much distress?

    The cell phone would beep until he either hit the stop button or the battery ran out so he reached over to his night stand to silence it. There was a voice mail message and he hit the “one” button on his phone, typed in his 12741 pass code, hit the speaker “On” button and listened. “Hi, Bryan it’s Sandy. My appointment ended early and I was wondering if you wanted to go grab something to eat? Call me if you get this message before seven, otherwise we can do it another time? It was really great riding with you today. Bye!”

    Bryan was wide awake as soon as her heard Sandy’s voice. He didn’t have a lot of time before he needed to head to work but it wasn’t often that he got dinner invitations from beautiful women. He sat up, winced a bit more and hit her speed dial button. The phone rang four times and he figured it was about to go to voice mail when she picked up.

    “Hello? Bryan?” came her lilting voice.

    “Yeah, hey sorry I missed your call but I was asleep. Are you already at dinner? Am I interrupting?” he said too quickly, the words rushing out almost faster than he could enunciate them.

    “No, not at all! I held off, hoping you’d call. Did you want to meet? Are you free?”

    “No. I mean, I want to meet but I have to head to work in a minute. I just called to thank you for the invitation.”

     “Work? Now? Where do you work?”

     “There’s a pet spa called Cedar Walk Pets out near the UPS depot a little north of Boyson Road. I work there nights.”

    “Oh! I’ve heard of that place! I have a couple friends that have been there. Katie and Patrick both keep pushing me to take my cat Ninja over there but it’s kinda far from here. What do you do there nights? When do you work?”

    “I work nine to five like most folks, but my nine to five is p.m. to a.m. rather than the other way around. Mostly I pet sit and clean up, make sure everybody has food and water and a clean place to sleep.”

    “So you riding around in the wee hours of the morning is something you do regularly?”

   “Yeah, less traffic then, fewer drunks, and my day’s just winding down when most folks haven’t even started.”

    “Huh, interesting. So you don’t have time to catch a quick bite with me?”

    “I don’t think so. I couldn’t meet you anywhere and still get to work on time. I need to take off in about twenty minutes.”

     “Where do you live? I thought you said you were up the street from that Walmart?”

     “Yeah, I am. But I have to be to work by nine and it’s already 8:15.”

     “Isn’t Cedar Walk Pets like what, two miles from you?”

     “Yeah, but I have to ride, I don’t own a car.”

      “No, shit. Pardon my French.”

     “No, shit and no problem. I had one for a while but the expense was too high for how much I used it, so I sold it. I’ve got most of what I need nearby and I like being independent from cars.”

     “Well. So you have to be to work in what, forty five minutes?”

    “Yeah. Well, forty really. I need to get there so the second shift guy can go home. We only have one person working this time of night. They lock the doors around 7:00.”

     “Hmm. That’s too bad, I was hoping to see you. Uhmm, would it be crazy if I picked you up and drove you to work? I could grab dinner and we could eat in the car?”

     “I don’t know what to say. I mean, that’d be great but how will I get home? I mean, I guess I could walk and all, I’ve done it lots of times in the winter.”

    “Well…. I could put your bike on my roof rack, and then you wouldn’t have to walk home. What do say?”

     “I say, yes. Absolutely. But we’d better hurry. Where do you want to meet?”

     “Why don’t I just pick you up at your place? What’s the address?”

    “2113 Blairs Ferry Road. It’s a three story brown brick apartment right around the corner from the Hy-Vee there on Center Point and Blairs Ferry. Do you know where that is?”

     “Pretty much. I’ll put it in my GPS. You said 2113? What do you like to eat?”

     “Yeah, 2113 Blairs Ferry. I’ll eat anything but it would probably make sense for you to get off 380 on Collins Road and then scoot up Center Point. There’s a Johnny Zio’s right on the way to my place and if I call up it can be waiting for us. Do you want to meet there?”

     “No,” Sandy said emphatically. “I said I’d pick you up. What should I order?”

    “The lasagna’s good. And a salad. Just not one of their subs, they sweeten their bread way too much.”

     “Okay, got it. I’ll call in lasagna and salad and pick it up and be at your place in fifteen. Sound good?”

     “Sounds great! Thanks, Sandy!”

     “No worries. See you in fifteen,” she said and disconnected the call.

    Bryan’s head and body aches had disappeared in the rush of making last minute dinner plans. He climbed out of bed, quickly used the bathroom, washed his hands and brushed his teeth. He decided to shave and filled the tiny sink with hot water. He scooped up the water from the sink with a wash cloth, applied the dripping cloth to his face and winced from sting that even the light pressure on his forehead produced. He dropped the cloth back into the sink and looked at the left side of his face in the mirror. No doubt about it, a visible bruise of light yellow and green was emerging where his helmet had smashed into him while protecting him from more serious injury. Bryan shrugged, gingerly touched the sore spot, shaved, rinsed his face a final time and then after wringing the cloth out scrubbed his head with it and then used his fingers to comb his hair.

     He went to his dresser, grabbed socks and underwear and then to his closet for jeans and his Cedar Walk polo shirt. Even though no customers were in the spa that time of night the doggie cams that were available so owners could see their precious pooches in their absence dictated that everyone who worked at Cedar Walk was in uniform whenever working regardless of the time of day or night.

     He quickly clothed his naked form, did a half-hearted job of making his bed and scowled. The pile of dirty clothes that he’d dropped on the floor from his shower earlier that afternoon were not indicative of his housekeeping and he scooped them up and threw them in the clothes hamper. Upon awakening he had felt tired and achy but now he was feeling refreshed and invigorated. “Wheel!” he said out loud, remembering that he had to swap tires and wheels so that he could ride home that night.

     Changing a flat tire, or in this case a bent wheel, was something he had done maybe a dozen times in the last two years. He had attended a bicycle flat tire class at Morgantowne Cyclery and now considered himself expert at the task. The job took him less than five minutes and he again washed his dirty hands.

     He had his keys, work name badge, broken helmet and a jacket and gloves for his ride home. “Lights!” he remembered and replaced the head and taillight he had removed earlier that day. Bryan had had too many close encounters with fools riding their bikes after dark with no lights on and he never wanted to be one of them. “That broken helmet probably isn’t worth a damn, but it’s better than nothing. And at least it gives me a place to hang my lights.”

     His apartment was pretty tidy for a 24 year old man living alone but he walked over to his couch to straighten the blanket that was draped across its back. The apartment complex wasn’t anything fancy but the hand me down furniture he had inherited from his parents was nice. He scooted around his apartment, making sure all the dirty dishes were in the dishwasher and that the place looked clean but lived in.

    His parents had died owing about as much on the house as he netted from its sale but at least he got his pick of their old furniture before selling everything he didn’t want, couldn’t use or didn’t have room for. The money he made at Cedar Walk almost paid his bills and his apartment was certainly furnished nicer than his friends’ who had moved out on their own but he knew he was just surviving and not really living a life. It looked possible, even probable, that his long siege of just surviving might be coming to an end now that Sandy had entered the picture. He was sure there was at least a little light at the end of that long, dark tunnel.