Author's Note: This story is a prequel to the story "Big Cheeks."
June 1983
It was almost five when the elderly Asian couple stepped into Ellen Chang's neat, spacious office. The man handed her a check, smiling at her.
"June rent, manager," he said in Cantonese. "The maintenance man came and fixed the leaking toilet very quickly. Thank you very much! And we love our new apartment, thank you, thank you!"
Ellen grinned. "No problem," she replied in Chinese. "Glad you like your place. If you have any other problems or concerns please let me know."
The elderly man nodded. "Thank you very much, manager." He secretly slid a red envelope (lucee) into her hand.
"Oh, no, I can't accept this!" Ellen replied, shaking her head. "It's part of my job to help you." She gave it back to him but he was very insistent so she took it, not wanting to offend him or create a scene. "Thank you."
"Are you single?" the elderly Asian woman asked.
Ellen started blushing, smiling. "Yes."
"Maybe we can introduce you to a nice Chinese boy in the future."
Ellen laughed it off. "Oh, no it's okay!"
Not wanting to embarrass her any further the couple left. Ellen put the red envelope in her desk drawer and reminded herself to make a note to her boss about it. They couldn't accept money or gifts on the job. She looked at the clock again: five minutes till five. She straightened some papers on her desk and put all the rent checks in a manila envelope for the bank deposit tomorrow.
It had been a long day and she finally turned off her computer and desk lamp. She was a tall Asian woman with a thick, muscular build, having wavy, shoulder length black hair like a rocker, full lips, and brown skin. She hated dressing so formally but the work environment dictated it. The business suit she wore looked like a monkey suit to her.
A little after five she locked her office door and headed to the bus stop.
*
Ellen got off on Hesperian, going to the Record Factory that was located in a little strip mall there. The Friday evening rush hour traffic was brutal, cars clogged up the main thoroughfare like it was a parking lot, and the bus she was on had moved at a snail's pace. She took a deep breath as she went inside the record store, sandwiched between a video rental shop and a comic book store. Mike, the co-owner, smiled at her after he helped a customer at the cash register.
"Hey, stranger," he said. "Haven't seen you in a while."
"Yeah, I know. Work's been hectic lately."
"How you likin' working with the old-timers?"
"I enjoy it. I'm pretty good at crunching numbers, solving resident issues, that sort of thing. And I get to utilize my broken Cantonese for the job," she said, chuckling. "Keeps me in touch with my cultural roots and helps me remember the language."
"Awesome! You seem fluent to me, the times I've seen you order food at the Chinese restaurant and talking to the staff." Another customer approached the counter and he rang the person up on the register.
"It's funny, sometimes I remember words and phrases more than other times. I've been forcing myself to speak Chinese at home with my parents so I won't forget."
"That's good" He handed the customer change and their bag. "For a while there, when I didn't see you come in, I thought you had lost your AC/DC fix."
"No way! They're my outlet to vent my frustrations and stress, they've kept me sane through school up till now. Hey, when is their new album coming out again?"
Mike checked a clipboard. A little taller than her, in his late thirties and fifteen years older than her, he had a wiry frame and premature gray hairs mixed in with his blonde ones. "August 15."
"Oh, God, that seems like such a long time from now! Lemme see what else you have by them that I don't."
He grinned. "I thought you owned everything they made."
She smiled. "Maybe I missed something." She headed to the AC/DC bin in the middle of the store and flipped through the selection, thinking, 'Got that, got that, have that, got that one. . .' She grabbed something and also picked up some blank cassette tapes on the way to the counter.
"For Those About to Rock, huh?" Mike asked, shaking his head at her slyly. "I thought hardcore fans like 'you' had everything in their collection."
Ellen laughed. "I need a backup copy 'cause I played my first one to death. Doin' too much head banging!"
"I see, I see. Lemme give you a little discount."
"No, don't do that," she insisted.
"For being a loyal customer all these years," Mike smiled. "For keepin' this shop and the video store afloat."
Ellen beamed at him, surrendering. "Okay, okay, since you put it that way! Well, it helps you guys are always nice and have the best selection. Which, by the way, I have to stop by next door to grab a movie. Do you have The Thing in stock?"
"I believe so." He handed her her bag. "Why don't I accompany you next door to check. C'mon."
Mike perused the shelves and nabbed it. "Got it! Anything else, young woman?"