I work the graveyard shift at Kinko’s. Yeah, it gets pretty damn boring, but I have a computer with access to the net there, so I won’t complain too much. True, the overnight shift puts a damper on my social life, but hey, it’s more cash per hour, so I’m happy.
I guess I should fill in a few of the blanks about myself. I’m pretty average looking; I suppose, with dark hair and eyes, average weight. The only thing that’s really striking about me is my height. At 6’5, I tower over most of my fellow employees and over all of the women I date. But enough about that. I just want to tell you all about one night last week.
It was about three a.m., and the place was dead as usual. I had just finished up posting on an online forum I frequent, when the bell over the door jangled and a young woman rushed in. I jumped, surprised that anyone would be in tonight (rainy and unseasonably cold), and nearly dropped the keyboard. “Can I help you?” I asked the slightly familiar young lady.
“Hi! You’re Joseph, right?” she enquired, smiling.
Shit. I couldn’t remember her name.
“I…ah…yes…hi! But it’s Joe for short.” I finished lamely.
“No problem. Adrienne,” she said, offering her hand.
Of course, I thought, shaking her hand, I knew her. I just didn’t recognize her. Usually she would dress in long, flowing skirts and dresses coupled with demure sweaters in muted shades. Very librarian-ish, if you will. But tonight, she was anything but. She was dressed to kill, whether that had been her intention or not. It was a sundress, spaghetti strap, A-line style, in an artsy dark greenish blue with random swirls on it in subtle colors. It was extremely short, stopping just a breath and a prayer below her crotch. In addition to that, the top of it was very tight, and I could tell she was braless by her nipples poking through the material. Put all that with pigtails, black platform sandals, and the fact that she was soaking wet from the rainstorm, and she was a veritable goddess to me.
She must have noticed me staring, because she began to apologize. “I’m sorry, I had- ha! – a date this evening. He wasn’t quite what I was looking for, so I left. I don’t drive, so I was walking home when this storm hit. Can I use your phone to call a cab? If it’s not too much trouble?”
I smiled. “You can try, but all the cabstands closed at midnight tonight. Since it’s not a weekend.”
She looked at me with her huge blue eyes. “Dammit! Well,” she continued, “could I wait out the storm here? Would that be ok?”
“You sure could.”
“I won’t get you in trouble, will I?”
Depends on what kind of trouble you’re thinking of, my dear. “No. I’m on for another half hour, and then I go home. They don’t much care what I do, as long as I keep the place clean and manned all night. But you must be freezing. Here,” I said, handing her my hoodie, “that should warm you up. Coffee?”