At What Point? - PART 2
Scott awoke to the sounds of Alanis’s “You Owe Me Nothing in Return,” which his cd player had chosen at random. He felt like hell in the mornings, that was nothing new, twenty years of shitty sunrises.
“Six-thirty,” he mumbled with morning breath. “Stretches, pills, shower...” Feeling his bristled face, he finished with, “better shave and get off to ‘Kack’ before he gets up.”
He always woke and planned his action when he got out of bed, he may not really know what he wanted to do with his life but, Scott always made sure he knew what he had to do in the immediate future. His morning routine has always been the same, since he could remember keeping track; of course there have been alterations with time and age.
But “before he gets up” rang in his ears. He wondered why he felt the need to avoid his father but did not take much time to ponder before he came to the same answer he always did. “I’m not the son he wanted. So what else is new?” He thought that he should be crying. Scott had seen enough ‘TV Movies of the Week’ to know that that’s the way it should work. But the tears didn’t come; in fact they had ended years ago. He sighed and let the water drip from him as he ended his shower…
“Damn ‘Kack’ traffic! Apparently no one plans on getting to classes on time!” Scott yelled to himself causing the windows to fog. He had left at seven, and the campus was less than ten minutes from house, but once again there was trouble on Rout 51. ‘Two cars, one cell phone and a red light that apparently -came out of nowhere-, all culminated in fucking up may day!’ He covered his irate thoughts with a smile he flashed at his GeoPolicts professor. ‘Maybe she will for get the point docking thing for being late… Shit, she’s not smiling back!’
Scott’s 8-o-clock class, which he had entered a half hour late, had ended and he knew he had gone to his class at ten, but couldn’t remember a damn thing. ‘Finish the day or just leave? Well lets see, anything due? No. Can I get notes? Yes. Do I care? – No!’ With that thought he headed to the parking lot. ‘So this is college – fuck it, this place isn’t even a campus! It’s barely two buildings!’ He blinked and squeezed his temples as he passed the perpetually empty guard both at the entrance of the campus’s main drag. ‘Damn, am I tired…’
Not really knowing what to do with his self appointed ‘day off,’ Scott slowly made his way towards Homestead and the Waterfront. Not that he had a choice, traffic in Pittsburgh defined slow – PennDOT was always toying with this or that. He would have to meet Tim, and whatever the her name was there later in the day anyway. “I’ll just pick through Barnes&Noble till then. There’s gotta be something worth reading in the bargain bin.” He said aloud to himself as he pulled into the parking lot; his sentence being punctuated by the ringing of his cell phone.
“Hi mom.”
“What made you think it was me?”
‘Cause nobody else has the number for this cellular leash but you!’ he wanted to scream, but his judgment stated for him. “Cause the phone says so on the display. You’re the one who bought it, you should know.”
Silence “… oh yes, right, right… so did you get to class alright? I heard about 51.”
“Yeah, I got – I’m here. It was just a lil bit of a delay.” Fumbling with the phone he wondered if she had caught that and how she knew about 51. He was half temped to look over his shoulder as he got out of his car to see if I was followed.
Oh, that’s good honey – have to run, work, work, work - you know how it is. Love you…”
Before Scott could say anything he heard a click than static. ‘Honey – my ass! I doubt she could pick me out of a line up. I don’t even know what downtown building she’s working at this week. And -work- now there’s an idea. What the hell does she do? A –motivational economist- that’s what she calls it. Tells other people how to do things with a cheery disposition but offers no idea how do to actually do what she recommends. What a load of BS…’
Scanning the barging bin, he bought a cheap book on database engineering for delivering practical applications over networks to user end computers. Scott sighed. ‘Or, in other words: How to build toys for the web if you are a net nerd or just a complete loser.’ He walked to the counter to buy the Fruitopia he had picked out based on color, not really caring what the flavor was. Skipping though most of the paperback textbook till he reached the part on game building, he began to read. All he really wanted to do was throw together a net based chess game that he and his cousin could play, and that would keep track of the movies and win and losses. ‘God, I need a life…’
For the second time Scott was snapped out of his thoughts by his ‘leash’.
“Sup Huffman! Where you at?”
“Hey, Tim. I’m already at The Waterfront.”
“Cool, cool. Meet us in front of the Loews - ‘k?”
“Yeah, um what time?”
“ ’round six, six-thirty. That cool?”
“Yeah, oh what’s her name again?”
“Who?”
“Well that isn’t a good sign! Your new girlfriend I’m supposed to meet. Hence, the point of meeting up!”
“Damn, sorry! Its Pamela, goes by Pam.”
“Ok, I have to go, my battery is dying.”
“ ’k – later.”
His cell was fine; he just didn’t feel like talking with Tim anymore. ‘I wonder how long this one will last. Nope. Better question. How much longer will this job last? When will he learn when you screw every co-worked with tits and then fuck them over that your job security goes to hell? I swear he’s making a tour of the food service jobs of the south hills from his bed!’
Stopping outside the of the bookstore with text in hand, he thought out loud. “Shit, he said six and it’s only three. Now what?” With those words he headed into the open-air mall that filled the gap between the Barnes&Noble and the theater, which would be his end destination.
Filled with stores like the Gap and Abercrombie, he felt out of place and a slight grimace fell upon his face. But he roamed the complex anyway, for the sake of burning time. His expression worsened slightly by the bitter chill that ran down his back – Pittsburgh would have snow that evening.
Scott walked past a line of windows and pondered, as he did when he was alone. It wasn’t that he hated the clothes themselves, some were ok. Although, he couldn’t understand paying such a high price for some of it. ‘Cheap cloth and construction - only to shell out cash for the right to be a walking billboard’ he thought as he passed one of the overly lit window displays.
It was getting colder and a choice had to be made. “Freeze my ass off out here, or go into one of the stores.” The people who passed he gave him an odd look – then he realized he had said that out loud, with a blush. ‘New Wave PGH or the Ye old Wax Shoppe? Well let’s see, the –hip and modern- clothing store or asphyxiate on bad berry candle fumes… clothing it is!’
Walking in he aborted the much needed heat, it was a misnomer, at least for humans, that ‘blubber’ was insulating. His eyes were assaulted but stark white walls and in looking down, Scott was blinded by the obsessively polished floor that reflected the powerful stage-like lighting that hung above him. As the spots dissipated from his filed of view, he notices that there where very few clothes on display and none that could be just picked up and bought.
‘God, did I pick the wrong spot to warm up. I don’t think they have a shirt in here bigger than a medium, let alone size –fat ass-. Ok, now how can I get out of here before a sales clerk sees me…. Shit too late!’
“Sir, I don’t think we can help you here. This establishment specializes in...”
Scott stopped listening. ‘She is actually telling me to fuck off! Oh, of all the…’ His face was growing red. “Ma’ma., Miss or whatever they call you in the Ninth Ring of He…”
But before he could finish his boiling tirade the “acquisition coordinator,” as it said on her lapel pin, turned and quickly covered the distance between the door and the dressing room, after being summoned by someone wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. In one swift action summarily dismissing Scott’s existence.
“Fucking figures – go help the pretty-boy with the thirty-two inch waist!” Scott left the store screaming. Not that he could see the actual waist size if the guy in the back – it just sounded good at the time. ‘Time to meet Tim and, um, and, Pam, anyway. And I yell at him for forgetting!’
Trudging over to the Loews, he spotted Tim and his new toy. ‘As always: small, petit, and top heavy. Maybe the boy would just buy a Barbie?!’
“Hey Scott, this is Pam. Pam this is Scott. Now let’s go; I’m freezing my ass off!”
“You could have waited in the lobby. I’m not blind, I could have found you!” Scott said slipping into a rather sarcastic tone.
“I tried to tell him that…”
‘Damn she sounds like a two year old’ Scot thought as his eyes darted over towards Tim. ‘Cradle-robber, damn near pedophilia…’ And as if Tim could read him, he flashed Scott a smile.
“We need to get you a date.” Tim directed to Scot as he held the door for Pam
“Sure have anyone in mind?” Scot smirked at the idea ‘…how about that stock boy you work with at Wal-Mart? I’d love to see what’s under that blue vest. I bet he…’
“Earth to Scott!” the toddler’s voice snapping him to reality. “What movie do you want to see?”
“You and Tim can decide. I’m not that picky.”
Scott was now regretting that statement. The ‘couple’ had picked a sappy romantic film which only gave then an excuse to make out, cuddle, and otherwise grope each other in the dark. ‘Ok time to get out of here. The last thing I need to see is one of my best friends impregnate a toddler in a movie theater – I’m mentally damaged enough as it is! And its pill time anyway.’
Making his way out of the theater he stopped at the water fountain and afterward decided to hit the bathroom. God knows what traffic will be like and the last thing he wanted was to be stuck on 51 having to ‘go.’
‘First time I have been here where there is no line – then again I am leaving in the middle of the movie – I wonder if Tim will be pissed?’
Scott finished washing his hands and headed for the paper towels by the exit. As he did the door to the hand-capped stall swung open and before he could react, Scott was struck in the face and set off balance, falling backwards to the hard tile floor. He felt his head hit once, bounce and hit again. He instantly reached up to feel if there was blood. Feeling wetness, but not sure, he tried to rather himself. Looking up he saw that the man, who had rushed from the stall, was now approaching him…
‘…hat, …. glasses…’ he was feeling a nauseated now. “Pretty boy…” was all Scott could mutter before his vision blurred and the world dispread.
“What? Are you o…” the other man stuttered in a confused state of concern. But stopped when he saw the other mans eyes flutter and close as he lay still on the wet bathroom floor. He then bolted from the scene, the door swinging violently in his wake.