The fog let up around 1pm, and the Castro was buzzing with local gay boys and tourists. A slim, androgynous delivery worker was wending her way through the crowd on the sidewalk, pushing a dolly piled with sacks of flour and boxes of canned goods. She zigzagged her way toward a pizza-by-the-slice place. Men and women alike moved out of her way, some gawking at her puzzling appearance, some interested in the puzzle she presented. She was immune to it all, her eyes shielded from gazes unkind and lascivious by the Ray Bans she wore, the Iron Maiden in her ear buds providing her own soundtrack to the afternoon. It wasn't such a bad gig.
She ducked down an alley and pulled the dolly up the short flight of steps into the back of a pizza place. She could hear the usual salsa or mariachi on the radio, as she pulled an ear bud out. A chubby El Salvadoran man came out of the walk-in, behind him a thin cloud of smoke. His eyes were brown beans suspended in red spider webs.
"Whassup, Ese?" he said, nodding his head and narrowing his eyes.
She looked at him, and a smirk cracked her face. She shook her head. "Abelino, you spend more time in that walk-in than you do on the pizza boards." They bumped knuckles.
He smiled guiltily. "Es pizza. Take time to cook, you know? What else I'm gonna do?" He tilted his head to the side, spreading his arms out as if really questioning this. He was handed the order sheet, and smoothly traded a slim baggie to her beneath the paper. Her smile widened and she pocketed the bag. She chuckled and started unloading the flour sacks in the dry storage.
Abelino ducked around the corner, drumming his fingertips along the wall. "Delivery es here," he said with a smirk and taunting falsetto. The pig-tailed brunette ringing up an order looked at him. She rushed through the transaction, and glanced into the back. "Cover the front for me, yeah?" she asked him. Abelino pointed to the clock on the wall. "Two minute, Sara." He looking blankly at a midwestern couple asking about the special. As Sara walked into the back she could hear him say "We have pizza."
Sara leaned against the wall, watching Alex: the rolled up shirt sleeves with tribal tattoos covering her arms. The lean, muscled biceps as she transferred the sacks. The slight feminine outline of legs beneath the Dickies workpants when she'd stand up from bending. The perfectly faded hairline, and finger-combed strands of chestnut hair as she dusted off flour from her pants. Sara approached from behind. "Hey, Alex."
Alex felt Sara's hand on her back, then slinking around her waist. She instinctually recoiled a little, then turned to face Sara. "Oh, hey," she said, smiling, pulling out the other ear bud.
"I've been waiting for you," Sara whispered, attempting to unbuckle Alex's belt. "I can't stop thinking about the other night, and I'd like to continue where we left off." Alex laughed, placing her hands on Sara's to stop her. "Yeah, we had a great time, but I've got a lot of stops to..." Sara's hand fell to Alex's crotch outside her pants, squeezing and kneading what she felt. "Oh God, you're packing. I'm so wet for you," she whispered hotly. Alex felt her own arousal increasing, and the scent of Sara's perfume (the memories it bore) was only heightening this excitement. Sara kept kneading Alex's crotch, as Alex wriggled free from her grasp. Just then Abelino came around the corner. "You go back," he said to Sara, pointing his thumb at the front. "I don't know what the fuck they want." He looked between Sara, who was scowling, and Alex, who was clearing her throat and hanging her clipboard on the dolly. He walked by them to the boards, winking at Alex on his way.
"I'm off at 6, and could use a ride...home. You know, if you're in the area," Sara said in a matter-of-fact tone. She looked at Alex then walked back up front. Alex's eyes slid along Sara's red pigtails, her tight shirt, short goth skirt, black and white thigh highs and green boots. Abelino appeared in Alex's peripheral vision, holding two fists on either side of his pelvis and thrusting his hips into the air. "You gonna give it to her, Ese? Ohhhh, yeah" Abelino teased, panting and grunting. Alex guffawed, rubbing her chin with her thumb and forefinger. She wasn't sure if Abelino knew she was biologically female, or if he was just cool with all colors of the rainbow. She found it funny in either case. "See ya next week," Alex called, rolling the dolly down the back steps to the sounds of Abelino's increasing pseudo-orgasms.
Alex loaded the dolly into the back of the truck and got into the driver's seat. She could have fucked Sara right there if Abelino hadn't come back. As she drove to her next stop, Alex remembered the other night perfectly--they had a couple drinks at Rocky's, a bar known for its male clientele, though some nights a few members of the opposite and inter sex could be seen. After the drinks, Alex went to the restroom. As she opened the door to walk back out to the bar, Sara pushed her back into the restroom and locked the door behind them. She could still feel Sara's legs wrapped around her neck, shoulders and waist as they fucked against the small vanity table, the sink, the wall....
Alex parked in the green zone, flashers on, and loaded up the items for her stop onto the dolly. She rolled it to the back door of the restaurant and tried the knob. Locked. She checked the address on her clipboard with the faded paint on the door to The Nines. It matched. She gave three solid pounds with her fist, as she could hear the music blaring from the back within.
Ryan sat in the office of the executive chef, going over some discrepancies in the food costing and revenues from the previous night. She technically had the night off, but came in when she heard Mike had a medical issue and would be coming in late. As she crunched numbers into the battered solar calculator on the desk, she became aware of a vague, repeated pounding on the back door. She called out into the kitchen for someone to open the door. The fucking music was probably too loud. Ryan tossed her pencil onto the table and headed to the back door. She passed the kitchen and pounded three times on a stainless steel table, jostling the prep cooks.
"Hear that?!," she said, pounding her fists and pointing toward the back door. The guys looked confused, but resumed working, finishing the prep for the night ahead. Ryan opened the door in the midst of another three loud knocks. Alex stood back, an arm leaning against the dolly. Ryan apologized briefly, saying something about the door usually being unlocked for smoke breaks. "No worries," replied Alex, pulling the dolly up the steps and rolling it along the concrete floor. Ryan used a key to unlock the door and followed Alex to dry storage. "Need help?" Ryan asked, half wanting to get back to work. "Nah, I got it," responded Alex, unloading the dolly and not looking up at Ryan. "There's more in the truck; I'll get it into the walk-in." Ryan nodded her thanks and headed back to the office.
Alex came into the office about 5 minutes later with the carbon of the order. She glanced at it before handing it to Ryan. "So, you must be 'Mike'?" Alex asked, looking at the order and then to Ryan with a smirk. Ryan finished writing down a few figures, glancing confused up at Alex, then at the order. "No, Ryan," she replied with a distracted took. They exchanged a brief glance of familiarity or knowingness. The phone rang and Ryan reached to get it. "See you next..." Ryan turned and started to say, but Alex had left.
The day's deliveries were complete. Alex sat atop Twin Peaks at 5:15, smoking a joint and watching the sun dip below the horizon. She squinted at the fading light, took a hit, and became aware of a vague calmness taking over. It was one of those rare moments of peace, when you feel free as a child and the world isn't such a scary place. The chill in the air, the colors in the sky, and the freedom that this city afforded were suddenly taken to heart. A car alarm in the distance brought her back to reality. She stubbed out the roach, got into the delivery truck and headed back to the plant in South Frisco to get her pickup.
"Giant Steps" by Coltrane was crackling from the old pickup truck radio when Sara rapped on the window, startling a thought-absorbed Alex. She smiled as Sara jumped into the passenger side. Alex worked the clutch into gear. "I've got a roommate, but she's never there," Sara said, putting her boots up on the dash and lighting a cigarette. Alex smiled, "Best kind of roommate to have," and took a right on Market.