Friday, February 8, 2013

1st Person Multiple Vision - Writing Exercise


LISA

     “Thanks for picking me up today Jen, how is everything going today?”  I said after I got in Jen’s tan 2010 Toyota Camry. It was 8:30 in the morning and we had to be at work by 9 o’clock.
     “Tired.” She said, “What are you doing to for tomorrow’s game?”
      “Ah the Stupid Bowl? Jets vs. Seahawks - - da daaa da daaaaaa. Can I put the radio on?”
      “Yeah, of course Lisa”
      “Justin Bieber’s greatest hits.” I laughed
      “Didn’t he die in a plane crash?” Jen remarked as she turned left off of North Road and onto Boston Post.
     “No, I think that was Britney Spears, the Biebs is still alive but no one listens to him anymore,” I replied putting on some Crunch Dub-Step.
     “How can you like this shit?” Jen said.
     “I like them beats.” I smiled as I tried to poke her in her side rolls. “Plus, it makes the trip into work more eventful. Johnny and I are going to watch the game at a friends house in the residence halls.” I said. “Can I smoke?”
     “Just crack the window and ash outside. How are you two doing?”
     “Okay, I guess.” I was still enrolled in Monroe College taking courses for the finance and computer programming dual major, class of 2022. I needed spending money, so I took a job at Stew Leonard’s that’s how I met Jennifer Clinton. Until then I had to take a bus from New Rochelle to the Westchester Ridge Hill condo and mall complex in Yonkers. It used to take an hour each way . Now it takes 20 minutes thanks to Jen.
     As I smoked, the world rolled by in staccato to the crunch of electronic beats.
     “Who is the opening manager today?” I yelled.
     “Steven” Jen replied. “God, I swear I’m gonna have a pile driver for a headache today if I have to keep listening.”
     “Yes J-e-n.” I switched the radio to some classic rock station. “Hey Joni Mitchell, Big Yellow Taxi.” How appropriate I thought, Jen smiled. I lit another cigarette.

***
STEVEN
     I used to live in Colorado and program computer networks for CISCO Systems in Denver, but that was before my divorce from Kathy. We have two boys, Jason and Michael, I don’t see them much anymore. They should be in high school by now. When we divorced I moved out of state and took a lower paying job as a Stew Leonard’s Manager to cut the alimony and child support payments cause fuck her.  They love me here anyway.  Voted the “Best place to work in Connecticut,” in 2012 and 2013 the company employs over 3,230 team members and did over $600 million in business last year.   It’s a numbers business like any other. This store employs over 250 people and does over one million dollars a week. There is another Stew Leonard’s closer to the city in Yonkers. This store replaced a Whole Foods when it went out of business in 2017.  Most of the time I make sure that the employees are on time and performing their tasks, double-checking the tills and the drops the assistant managers pick up and drop off to me in the office. Aside from that I focus on quality control, which I can do from here. The job can get dull so every once in a while, once or twice a week, I bump a line off the desk.  It’s one of the few perks of getting in early and more effective than coffee. 
     “Hey, Charlie.” I yelled out. Charlie Smith-Hanna was supposed to be in by 8:45 AM to be ready for the cashiers who arrived at 9 AM. But he was late. Today Lisa and Jen were opening with Kit, Mark, and Wendy taking the afternoon shift. We would have to worry about this evening’s shift, as I would assume people would be stocking up on beer, wings, potato chips and dips, and whatever else they would consume for tomorrows game. I took the spread and the Jets to win by 2 touchdowns. J-E-T-S, JETS, JETS, JETS! Where the fuck is Smith-Hanna?
*** 
LISA
     “Can we talk,” I asked Jen before we started our morning shifts as we pulled into the parking garage at the Westchester Ridge Hill Condo and Mall Complex.
     “Sure thing, I thought we were talking,” she said taking a parking ticket from the machine. “What’s up sweetie?”
     “About today’s morning manager,” I said.
     “Steven Winters?”
     “Yeah, I don’t like him, he is a perv. It’s enough I have to tolerate his oogling, but do you know what he said last week?”
     “What?” Jen sighed as she pulled back strands of her blond and gray hair some of the strands fell out. She had been recently losing her hair, no one had said anything to her about it to her.
     “That I was fifty dollars short and it would be coming out of my paycheck.” I said. “Come-on, at most its 5 bucks, that’s on a bad day. He said I could make it up.”
    “How so?”
    “Yeah, I don’t know”
     “Just don’t get locked in that man’s office honey. You may be paying him back in blow jobs” She laughed as she warned. “Who was the assistant manager last week?”
    “Benny,” I said.
    “Sometimes I wonder if Benny ever got hit by a truck.” Jen laughed.
    I laughed too.
    “Do you have a favorite for tomorrows game?” Jen asked as she turned off the car.
    “No. Any team but the Jets,” I said.
    “Yeah, I wonder why. Come-on Lisa we’ll be late if we keep talking.”
    “Okay just don’t leave me alone with Winters, I think Smith-Hanna is the assistant so no worries about being late.”
***



PAUL
     “ Orange, Red or Yellow Stacy?” I called back before I left out the open door. “I’ll get what ever they have then, call me if you need anything else,” I yelled out when she didn’t respond. 
    “That’ll be fine.”
     I put the glasses back and closed the door behind me.
     “Glasses on.” I said. Nothing happened. “Ellium!.” I commanded as I walked onto the courtyard. In the left frame a tiny LCD screen appeared and an earpiece that are connected to the frames and inserted into the ear, came a female voice, “ How can I be of assistance?”
    “Supermarket.”
    “Hi Paul there is a Whole Foods in the Westchester Ridge Hill Complex on Market Street. Please follow the hi-lighted path to your destination. Will that be all?”
     “Yes.”
     During my brisk 15-minute walk through Archer Ave. and Market St, I passed a total of 10 people.
     “Actually no. Glasses on.”
     “Yes Paul,” the female avatar said politely. I hadn’t yet customized the VSC-2020s but when you purchase them at least the name of the buyer is programmed into the software. Voice recognition is activated when they are first turned on by the individual user. The whole customization thing is a pain in the ass.
     “What is the weather like today?”
     “Weather for Yonkers, High of 36 degrees falling to 26 degrees Fahrenheit with a 46% chance of snow. Will that be all?”
     “Yes, that is all. Thank you Ellium.”
      Not exactly the City but still quaint, Westchester’s Ridge Hill was a mall that was supposed to resemble a town in Florida or Arizona with one Avenue and a couple of streets. All of the stores and restaurants were within 15-30 minutes walking distance. There was also a tram but it wasn’t running at 9:48 on a Saturday morning. The sign on the supermarket says Stew Leonard’s not Whole Foods.   
     “Gatorade” I mumble to myself, “….Excuse me?” Over by the entrance is an employee wearing a white smock stacking oranges in evenly spaced patterns paying much attention to the detail of the spacing. “Sports drinks?”
     “You have to go all the way around until you see them. Sorry but there’s no easy way to it. But it’s right next to the canned goods,“ he said.
     “Can I ask you another question?” 
     “Whole Foods moved out three years ago buddy. Upgrade your glasses.”
     “Thanks.” As I walked through the supermarket I realized that it had no aisles, just cut thrus every once and a while so you have to snake your way and meander through the whole entire store picking out the goods you want to buy.
     “Ellium what is my schedule for this week?”  I said, talking to my glasses. Calendar dates for the week of Monday 2/3/2020 were projected into the left lens.
     “Should I add anything Paul?”
     The Gatorade was by the canned goods like the man said. It just took some time walking around the store like some abandoned Coney Island funhouse without mirrors.
     “No, but you can stop calling me by my first name all the time.”
     “How shall I address you then?”
      I also picked up some other items for tomorrows game.  And approached the register: Smoked Gouda, potato chips, sour cream, French onion dip, fresh broccoli, carrots and Gatorade were almost spilling out of my arms.
     “Don’t. You don’t have to use my name. It creeps me out.”
     “Yes, sir.” She said, as I put the items down on the check out counter.
      Stacy called right as the items were being scanned. Digging the phone out of my pocket I answered,           
     “Hello?”
     “Hey, it’s me. Can you get some beer too, or wine if they have it? I really don’t want to go over Frank and Sarah’s without bringing something,” she asked.
     “$45.42,” the cashier looked up and said to me, “How do you want to pay?” The name on her badge said JEN in thick black lettering.
     “What? Wait, can I get wine or beer before I pay?”
     “Sir?”
     “One second okay?” I replied racing through the store like some TV reality obstacle course. The beer was next to the bottles of soda and water by the canned goods where the sports-drinks were. It took me less than 5 minutes to get a 12-Pack of IPA Craft Beer. I must have set some sort of record somewhere.

***
STEVEN
     “Morning Jen, Morning Lisa. You two look pretty today I see.” I lied. Jen’s hair had been falling out for quite some time now and it was kind of gross to look at her. “Can I see you in my office Lisa?” The store just opened at 10 AM and there were already some people shopping, but Jen could handle a few customers herself.
     “Am I in trouble?” Lisa said, as she was counting her till I had given her.
     “No. You don’t have to count that out.”
     “If this is about you saying that I was short last Saturday I think I do” Lisa smiled. She was beautiful in a careless way that time will take from her gradually, but what did she know? “Jen, have you seen Smith-Hanna?”
     “No, Steven we came in together as usual.”
     “You were short by $50 on Saturday Lisa.” She had put up her dark hair in a ponytail and I thought it looked cute. The angrier she got the more her hair bounced and jittered around.
     “Did you ask Benny?” She looked at Jen and Jen look back at me.
     “Huh? I was lost for a second. “Where did that guy who was at your register go Jen? An old man and a woman had just arrived to Lisa’s checkout counter.
     “I think he left,” She said casually.
     “Without paying?” I asked.
     “Hi, “ the man said to Lisa.
     “Just one second Sir, I have to finish with the till,” she replied to him. 
     “Yeah, what a jerk,” said Jen.
     “Did you ask Benny about the drop he made?” Lisa repeated herself.
     “Not yet.”
     “Hey what’s that on your shirt?” Lisa asked, pushing in the Jets pin with her finger.
     “My Super-Bowl MMXX flair.”
     “What about the other team?” she said putting the till in the cash register.
     “I don’t support the Seahawks.”
     “Well don’t talk to me until you speak with Benny, I’ll speak with you and him but I’m not going to your office, you can fire me if you want.” She began scanning he man’s items.
     “Alright then let’s hope its an honest mistake.” Fuck this. I left to see what else was going on. “I have to find Smith-Hanna. Have a lovely day ladies.”
     “Thank you,” they replied, as I turned my back, feeling as if I was being flipped off picking up some crap and Purple Gatorade from Jen’s register, who drinks purple? I’m off to give this shit to Smith-Hanna to restock. I’ll check the security camera later.
***
PAUL
     “Hey, JEN?” I called out, “Where is the rest of the stuff?” The beer was getting heavy so I switched it from under one arm to the other. No one replied. An elderly woman looked back casually as the supermarket radio station played some dance song from the 1980s. 
     “Hello?!”
     “Wait your turn,” said the woman standing in front of me, her hair was gray and short. She wore some throwback glasses and a purple jump suit that zipped up with white shoes.
     “JEN, can I check out now? I got the beer where is the rest of the stuff.” I continued,. “You know, politeness still accounts for something these days. What makes you think…” the woman standing in front of me continued by this time she was looking directly up at me, almost into my nose. Everyone stopped what they were doing and all looked at me, or at her yelling at me.
     “Look I was here before, a minute ago, checking out.” 
     “Forget it,” the old woman said and turned around. “I apologize for this man’s lack of civility today,” she addressed the old man and two employees who then began their activities as before like nothing had happened. How fucking embarrassing was that? JEN went to another register turning on the light to let them know she was open to scan their items.
     “Is that all?” said the cashier who had short thick brown hair whose nametag read LISA as I put down the 12 Pack of IPA Craft Beer.
     “Yes,” I said. No I meant, where is my other stuff? 
     “That will be $18.59.”
     I pulled out a $20 bill from my wallet and paid the cashier. “Is there another store that sells sport drinks around here?” I asked.
     LISA looked at him, “Is that your hat?” she said.
     “Yes, Super Bowl MMXX. Do you think we will win?” I smiled at her confident in the Jets new rookie running back and retooled offensive line as she bagged the 12 pack of IPA Craft Beer and gave me my change with the receipt.
     “No. The Jets suck.” LISA said and then turned to the next costumer, “Hi, welcome to Stew Leonard’s. Did you find everything you came for today?” As I left the store all I could think was, “Gatorade, fucking Gatorade.”


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