The booming sound of thunder woke me. I could hear the violent storm right outside the window. My eye opened just barely enough to register the glowing numbers from the bedside alarm clock. 5:03AM was way too early to be getting up.
I looked at my phone more out of habit then necessity. Of course it was Tuesday again, or is it still? Getting the verbiage correct was annoying, even if only in my own head. Since it was just for my reference I guess I could use any phrase I wanted. Nobody else would care. It's not like I told anybody what was going on. I figured they'd wrap me up in a white coat with extra long sleeves that fastened in the back and throw me in the loony bin. I would only be there for a few hours at most, until I woke up the next Tuesday at 5:03AM from the sound of the storm...again. I had thought about seeing a psychiatrist, or maybe just a therapist to talk it all out and try to find long term acceptance in this never ending series of Tuesdays.
One of my current issues was that I no longer knew how many times I had repeated this day. I had lost count long ago, but I thought it was somewhere around the three or four month mark. I kept flip flopping on whether I cared to know or not. Yesterday...or the last Tuesday yesterday I had spent the whole day in the park. I had just wandered around from bench to bench the entire day, looking at the scenery. That was something I never did when life was zooming by before. There were always places to be, things that had to be done, and I was always going to work. That was one thing that had stopped. It was my day off anyway, so I wasn't skipping out.
I slipped out of her bed and quickly dressed and left so as not to disturb her. I always started Tuesday at the same time in the same place. It was always 5:03AM at Gabriela's apartment. Depending on how I felt or what I had planned, I would either enjoy a little early morning attention from Gabriela, or skip that and slip away to start my morning.
There were days I had a specific agenda, other days I simply wanted to wander around and just let things come as they may. Today I felt like having some breakfast. I didn't want to go to a truck stop or fast food joint. There were still options like Denny's or IHOP, but in the end I hopped on my Harley and headed home. There was a little diner right across the street from my apartment building. I had never been there before, but diner's are usually the places with the best food. I had meant to try it in the past, but never got around to it. I guess there was no time like the everlasting present. I parked my bike in the spot for my apartment, crossed the street, and went into the diner. This was not the type of place where they would seat you so I grabbed a booth away from the door.
There was a guy at another booth facing in my direction. As I looked around the diner's decor I saw him watching me while at the same time seemingly trying not to stare. I sat still in my booth looking directly at him. He looked uncomfortable at my gaze, and kept glancing over to see it was still fixed on him. I hadn't moved. He looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. Finally he levered himself out from behind his table and came over to where I sat. While he crossed the distance, I thought I kind of recognized him. I thought he was one of my neighbors. I didn't go out of my way to meet any of them, so I would typically only see them in passing and maybe exchange a word or two of greeting.
What was his name? Ray, Rex, Randy? I thought it was something that began with a 'R', but I couldn't remember it. If it was the same neighbor, I would see his name on his mailbox at the building entrance near my own, but I suck with names. He stood in front of my booth for a moment before opening his mouth to speak.
"Sorry to bother you, but you are my neighbor Brad, right? I didn't mean to interrupt you in here but I lost my keys down a sewer grate and I've been trying to get in touch with my roommate, but he's at work and not answering his phone and the locksmith I called said it would be hours before he could get to me, so I came over here to wait and I just need a break!" my neighbor said in a rush. He was clearly flustered and the whole one sided conversation left him breathless.
"Sure thing, have a seat." I said.
"By the way, I'm Ricky. I see you in the hall sometimes, but I don't think we've actually ever met. I only moved in a few months ago, so I still don't know that many people in the building, or the city for that matter. I moved here from California for work, and also because the cost of living out there is just out of control. But then my job downsized and now I'm currently unemployed and looking for just about anything to keep me afloat until I find something more suited to me and my talents."
Ricky settled on the opposite side of my booth. He kept talking and talking, and soon I knew where he grew up, his dog's name that still lived with his parents, what kind of car he drove, that he had seen my bike and always wanted to ride, but wasn't sure if he could handle it since he hardly ever rode his old bicycle back when he had a bicycle, and he had broken up with his last boyfriend when he caught the boyfriend cheating with his boss, which he suspected was why he was 'downsized' shortly after.
"I think I've said too much. I talk when I'm nervous, and I can't seem to shut up even when I know I should."
"Don't worry about it. You can cancel the locksmith and just wait in my apartment until your roommate comes home. That service would cost you an arm and a leg, and it sounds like something you don't want to have to worry about right now." I said.
Relief clearly showed on his face when I made the offer. Since I hadn't ordered anything yet, there was nothing I had to stick around for. Ricky settled his bill and back across the street we went. I unlocked my own door and led him inside. I indicated that he could settle on my couch and turned on the TV for him, handing him the remote as I headed into my kitchen. Since I now had time, I went ahead with my household chores. I started the full dishwasher and started a load of laundry. I started cleaning up the kitchen when I heard my unlucky guest speak up.
"Do you need any help?" Ricky asked. "I feel kinda useless and intrusive just sitting here watching you do all that stuff. I can put away the dishes, fold the laundry, clear up some clutter, or take out the trash."
"I'm good, just a little behind on some things around here. Besides, I don't really think you wanna handle my underwear."
"I'll handle what's in them for you." Ricky said.
I think Ricky thought the TV was louder or that his voice didn't carry very far, but he was wrong on both counts. I turned to look at him and he realized I may have actually heard him. He suddenly became very interested in what was on TV while side eyeing me.
"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that." I said.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for you to hear that! I would never...well, not never, but not, I mean...do you go that way?"
"No."
"I'm so sorry! Maybe I should leave." he said as he looked around him as if gathering his thoughts in order to go.
"And where are you going to go?" I asked. "You're still locked out of your apartment. You can still wait here. I'm not offended or anything, I just don't go that way."
"I bet I could change your mind about that." Ricky said, as if to himself.
His eyes got really wide as he realized he said the quiet part out loud again. I was a little embarrassed at his words but it was kinda funny. His foot seemed to have a permanent home in his mouth.
"I'll let you know if I change my mind." I assured him.
He relaxed once he discerned that I was not going to throw him out. But that knowledge along with the comment I had just made seemed to open the floodgates of information again. A little time passed with me fiddling around my apartment as my neighbor talked. Soon enough it seemed like I knew his entire life story.
