Gio Rossi couldn't believe his good luck as he saw an empty space in front of the Meade building on the corner of 33rd and Park. He pulled quickly into the spot before the little Honda behind him, who had the same idea, could beat him to it. The driver braked abruptly and laid on the horn as he yelled at Gio and started throwing the finger around. Most other New Yorkers probably would have responded in kind, but Gio was used to this treatment, and found that it generally pissed them off more if you made it look like you didn't care. Gio gave the driver his best nonplussed look in return, which only inflamed him even more. He sped off, muttering to himself.
Gio smirked as he watched the little car gun it and mumbled to himself, "When in Rome, buddy…." as he shut off the van. He got out of the van and went around to the backside to pull out his working gear. His hand hesitated on the door handle as a strange sensation abruptly swept over him and all the hair stood up on the back of his neck. Turning slightly, his gaze swept up the side of the 50-some story building. Unconsciously, he stepped up onto the sidewalk and looked up at it pensively. To passersby, he might have appeared to be a tourist, standing in awe of the skyscraper, but this was not actually the case. He was a NY boy through and through, born and bred in Queens. He spent half of his life downtown and saw taller buildings everyday.
As he stood there and took in the place…the building, the excitement and bustle around it, he began to experience a strange feeling. He came down here often enough. The place felt …different today. He wasn't sure how to explain it, but it felt…welcoming. It was like a preternatural feeling of… buoyancy, was maybe the best way to describe it; like something was waiting for him inside. There was almost a feeling of anticipation. Like something real good was gonna happen in his life today. Something huge. Something life-altering.
Abruptly he was knocked out of his reverie by something very solid crashing into him on his left side. The impact left him feeling like he had been sucker-punched in the stomach and he toppled to the right, back down into the street. Just barely managing to hang onto his balance, he immediately threw his arms out to catch the person (he imagined that's what it had been) that had hit him.
He swung his head around to get a glimpse, and the feeling of a sharp blow to his gut returned. The girl had long, thick, dark hair; in her semi-toppled state it fell over her face and shoulders and hid them momentarily from his view. The points of contact where their bodies touched felt tingly. And hot. He let go of her like he had been burned and took a step back.
"Oh my God, I am so terribly sorry," she babbled on kind of quickly, trying to regain her footing. She was holding a cell phone to one ear, trying to juggle a big bag and a coffee carrier in the other, and now attempting to reach up to fix her thickly-framed red glasses which had gotten knocked askew on impact.
Unexplainably captivated, he just looked at her. Just stood there like an idiot and stared at her.
"What? No Daniel, I'm not talking to you," she said dismissively into the phone. She took the phone and held it to her ear with her shoulder. "I just almost knocked some poor guy over outside the building." Now she was digging around in her purse with her free hand. She looked up and their eyes met briefly. Entranced, he just stared. She flashed Gio a harassed kind of expression that told him she had barely noticed him, but mouthed in his general direction, "Really, I'm so sorry." She made some kind of helpless gesture with her hands and hurried off. He hadn't even had a chance to say anything to her, but he watched her go now.
Who are you kidding? You could have said any number of things at any time.
He watched her nearly stumble over the curb that she had clearly forgotten was there and hastily make her way to the door of the building, which she nearly knocked someone else out with when she swung it open.
After she disappeared into the building, Gio shook his head, like he was clearing it of cobwebs. It was strange, he'd felt some kind of connection when that girl slammed into him. That was new. That had never happened before. Kind of surprised him.
Well, didn't matter anyway. He looked back up at the building again. That girl would be impossible to find in that maze; he was pretty sure he wasn't gonna run into her on any of the floors he was heading to. And he was already kind of seeing someone anyway.
Putting the encounter out of his mind, he opened up the back of the van and started pulling his stuff out. The tingly feeling still hung around. He smiled to himself; today just felt good.
--
Three hours later, Gio was standing in the elevator waiting to get to the 28th floor. He had just gotten this job as the permanent sandwich vendor and he was kind of playing it by ear. He'd been temping for this company for about 6 months, so he'd been to the Meade building occasionally before today.
His last magazine of the day to hit up for lunch was Mode, and frankly, he didn't even know why he bothered. It seemed pointless; he'd filled in for Robert, the old sandwich vendor, a while back and his experience told him that there was no one here that would really appreciate his gift for making an amazing sandwich. Hell, he didn't think he'd sold one sandwich in its entirety the last time he'd been here. If memory served, these women (and he used that term loosely because to his eyes, there wasn't a one among them who had anything remotely womanly about her since it had all been starved off long ago) lived on a diet of diet soda, lettuce and rice cakes if they were feeling particularly adventurous.
Christ, hadn't anyone ever told them that real men liked to have a little more to hold onto? He shook his head in disgust. Whatever, it wasn't like he had to sleep with any of them.
The elevator dinged. He stepped out onto the floor, pushing his cart in front of him. Looking around at the Mode stick figures, he thought to himself, definitely glad I don't have to sleep with them.
Oh well, its the last floor of the day, and if no one eats, I might be able to skate early, he thought, focusing on the bright side.
He was coming up on the reception desk now and he was hoping the same bimbo wasn't still working the desk- the last time he'd been here, she'd told him she'd wanted fat-free mayonnaise on her sandwich. Was she kidding? Did she know what mayonnaise consisted of?? He briefly pondered that maybe the hair dye had in fact reached her brain.
In the end he'd given her the mayo without explaining that to her, figuring a few extra calories every few years wasn't gonna kill her. Might even help, in fact. Hell, he was doing some other guy a serious favor.
And then when he asked her what kind of meat she wanted, she had given him a leisurely once over and told him in a condescending voice that he was cute but he wasn't her type and not to get too optimistic. What the hell was that supposed to mean? He hadn't even tried to pick her up. He had kept a smile pasted on his face and didn't respond. This is the problem with all these Mode girls, he had thought. They all think they're God's gift to mankind. In the end, she had sauntered off with her 'fat-free' mayo and lettuce sandwich looking pretty pleased with herself. He had literally just been at a loss for words, and incredulously moved on to the next person.
Figures, he thought, catching sight of her at the desk. The mayo didn't appear to have helped much. He couldn't believe she hadn't gotten fired yet- he had serious doubts that she even knew what 'optimistic' meant. She must be sleeping with the boss, he thought.
There was no way to really avoid her, so he tried his best to keep his head down and pretended not to notice her; he sure didn't want to draw her attention. But luck wasn't with him today.
"Hey…" she said as she caught sight of him trying to sneak past the reception desk and running over to the other side to catch up with him. You might have thought she'd won the lottery from the tone of her voice. He mentally gave a pained groan.
"So are you a regular now, Pastrami Prince? Where's the normal ham sandwich hottie?"
Pastrami Prince? Did she seriously just call me that? He looked at her warily. Ham sandwich hottie? Surely she wasn't referring to Robert, who was at least 50 and kind of skeezy looking to Gio, even if he was a nice enough guy.
He considered flat-out ignoring her, but she seemed to have the qualities of one of those little ankle-biter dogs- the yappy ones who chased you around endlessly and annoyed the shit out of you with that high-pitched yelp until you threw them a bone. And then hid as fast as you could.
He wasted no time.
"Sorry," he said as he started wheeling the cart away. "Robert's gone. I'm the new sandwich guy."
Please don't follow me. Please.
She followed him.
"Oh, well that's ok. I guess you'll do," she said as she checked him out again. Torn between amusement and irritation, he thought to himself that maybe the boss wasn't doing a good enough job with her if she treated random guys like this habitually, which she seemed to. "It's too bad you're not a little taller, we could have been so good together," she said as she walked away, seemingly dismissing him.
He stopped abruptly, and watched her saunter back to the desk with yet another incredulous look on his face. Wow. Shaking his head, he started moving again. The thought that he had this to look forward to every day was a little bit of a downer.
Getting himself set up in his corner, he rang the bell and waited.
It's only half an hour or so. You can do it.
--
The first of the emaciated Mode Amazons stopped at the cart.
Let me guess. Lettuce. With lettuce on the side. He kept that charming smile plastered on his face; it wasn't hard since he was mocking them internally as he was making their, er, 'sandwiches'. He handed her a plate of lettuce and repeated her order.
"Ok, chicken and cheese special on a baguette- no chicken, no cheese. No baguette."
Amused with himself, he smiled broadly at her and watched her walk off. He turned back to the line.
It was her. And he was not going to just stand there like an idiot this time. What was she doing at Mode magazine? She looked like she would be more at home at the Queens Public Library. He wondered if she would recognize him from earlier.
Leaning forward, he said conspiratorially, "I just sold her a plate of lettuce for 7 bucks."
The girl nodded and replied, "Yes but that's her breakfast, lunch and dinner, so really that's a bargain."
Oh no, and she was witty too. Sold.
"Mmmm," he said pointing at her in agreement.
"Can I please get the turkey, sun-dried tomato, on a baguette?" she asked.
Excited by the prospect of making an actual sandwich, with actual ingredients, he clapped.
"Yes! Man, I knew you were an eater!"
She made a kind of weird face and said, "Oh. Thank you…I guess."
He gave her a genuine smile; that had been a compliment.
"So," she continued, making conversation as he prepared the sandwich, "You're new. What happened to Robert?"
"Y'know, I think he inherited money. Or was arrested," he said abruptly.
She made another strange expression and said, "Oh."
"I don't know," Gio continued. "There was a lawyer and cash involved."
Looking like she wasn't really sure how to respond, she said, "Well. Welcome," and gave him a big smile.
He turned on the most charming smile he had. This girl was cute.
Just then a guy rolled up in a wheelchair.
"Hey, Betty. Could you get me this for the benefit tonight?" he asked, handing her a paper.
So her name was Betty. He quietly observed the conversation between Betty and wheelchair guy.
"Uhh…ok. Yes," she mumbled. "Ah, thank you," she said to him as she took the plate.
He watched her hurry off, yelling "Daniel!" as she did so.
That must be who she was talking to on the phone this morning. He wondered what was up there.
He watched her all the way down the hall until the next person in line said, "Uh, hello?"
--
Later that night, he sat down in his chair and cracked open a beer. His head was going over the events of the day for the millionth time. After meeting Betty (and actually speaking her to her the second time), after her getting him fired over sun-dried tomatoes, after the drive to Jersey and the little spat they had gotten into before the banquet her boss was attending (that's who wheelchair guy had turned out to be), he was finding himself more intrigued than ever. She looked meek. But she was anything but mild. And she instinctively knew how to push his buttons just the right way. He thought he might have that same talent concerning her. He couldn't wait to find out.
Just then his phone rang. He let the machine pick it up.
"Hey Gio, its Jackie. Just calling to let you know I'll be down at the bar if you want to meet me there. Hope to see you soon…"
Jackie. Oh yeah. He was gonna have to do something about that. Letting this crazy impulse take him, he dialed her number back and said, "Hey Jackie, I just got in. Look, thanks for the invite, but I don't think I'm going to be meeting you down at the bar anymore. But stop over before you head home. We need to talk."