This one is more of a slow burn, and a bit of world building is being established. Think of this as rubbing salt on an open wound ;) Enjoy!
***
In no way would I be able to convince the version of me from this morning that his day would end like this. A chain of events that is so unprecedented not even Tony saw coming. I woke up to practically bend over backward so rich people would give me a tip. Tony woke up to win first place at a bodybuilding show...and hopefully to also bend me over backward.
But was this going to happen?
So much doubt clouded my mind.
There's just absolutely no way a regular shmegular waiter gets this chance. There's no way someone like me can say "I've felt up a bodybuilding competitor." Even if I were to verbalize the thought, imposter syndrome was seeping through intensely. Nonetheless, I was running late and I will not let this opportunity pass.
10:47 p.m.
1422 Allendale Ave was inscribed at the top of my receipt. I used the look-around function on my phone to see where I was headed.
I'll be darned. His address was less than ten minutes away from my job but headed opposite the direction I drive home to.
The object-permanence of it all always fascinated me. The fact that these muscular men can probably live minutes away from me and I would not even know is wild. The urge to even speak to them falls short at the stutter though, that is if I would swallow my pride and say something to them anyway. How I got away with THIS whole ordeal is beyond me.
I start the route on my map and begin to drive down the expressway pensively. The sweat on my palms dampened the steering wheel making a squeaky sound chafing against its rubber. My free leg shook with jitters. My car's engine resounding only added more uneasiness to the mixture of the rattling within every bone in my body.
My race against the clock and my deep desire to remain punctual came to an abrupt halt and was interrupted by the oh-so-magical red and blue lights flickering through my car's rear.
Shit.
I pull over to the emergency lane as does the cop car. Quickly, I pull out my phone to open my messages with Tony and snap a pic of my rearview mirror with the police and lights in the frame captioning it:
'Running late. I'll be there as soon as this is over with!'
What was taking this cop so fucking long?
Minutes, or so it felt like, passed before he finally decided to stroll out of his vehicle. An average-sized man with wide hips swayed side to side as he wobbled towards my car ever so slowly taking his sweet ass time. Hopelessness overcame me along with the pent-up aggression of the day but I had to be ready to comply just to get him off my hair.
The cop finally arrived next to my window and gave me a sign to roll it down. His bodycam honed in my direction and dangled next to a silver name tag engraving:
L. Cooper.
"Do you know why I pulled you over sir?" Officer Cooper asked.
"No, not really," I confessed.
"Well," he began, "you were driving way over the speed limit."
He puckered his lips inward into an awkward shrug. I knew I was tense but how fast could I have been going?
"Was I?" I asked.
"Yep, a whopping 20 miles-per-hour over the 65 miles-per-hour speed limit," he said.
Fuuuuuck me.