"My Stupid Mistake"
It promised to be an ordinary Sunday afternoon at The Akaii Tomato, a 24-hour convenience store and bookshop run by my Uncle Kari, where I work as a part-time bookkeeper, cashier, and all around lap dog. So there I was, sitting in one of the high stools near the candy counter, totally engrossed in a hot new paperback by Mike Cutthroat of the Cutthroat Series. Guess you should know by now, I'm an espionage freak. I get my thrills from wrestling books with heavy, he-man type themes--- blood, gore, awesome fistfights and naturally, gorgeous women encased in slinky satin and tight leather. Well this particular afternoon, I had my head buried in the latest MC release called "Terminate With Extreme Pain." I was getting to the juicy part. Vash, (the series' macho and ultracool hero) was in quite a bind, disarmed by the sexy Eurasian spy, a dagger in her teeth when…
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"What the hell…"
"Musica-san, oi genki deska?" chirped an all-too familiar female voice, cutting through my daydreams and right through the image of the gorgeous Eurasian girl. I threw down the book in exasperation and looked up to find myself in close-range contact with a pair of velvet-brown eyes.
"Musica-san? Can I pay for this book now?"
Elie Valentine pushed her face straight through mine's, so close our noses where almost touching. I bolted back instantly, like some weird shot of electricity passed through the wisp of space that separated us. She blinked several times, her brown eyes immensely curious, as if trying to take a photocopy of my face. Ok, so she had nice enough eyes. But that was about it, appeal-wise. Elie was a kid…a precocious fourteen-year old who's always romping about the streets in her run-down bike and wheeling into Akaii Tomato to ruin my quiet afternoons.
"Ok, Elie, let's have the book."
"Here…ummm…don't look at the title, ne Musica-san?"
"If I don't look at the title, how would I know the price?" I had to hand it to Elie, not only is she BUILT like a 14-year old, she also thinks like one. But that was the least of my problems. I have enough going on in my teenage life without having to worry about some dippy kid whose idea of dressing up is to tie the laces on her sneakers. But little did I know that from that very moment, my biggest worry was about to begin.
"The price is on the back," Elie said nervously, pushing the book towards me.
"I have news for you Elie--- the title is on the back cover too."
"It is? Well…well I…ummm…oh yeah! I think I have enough change here to pay for that. " She made a big show of searching the pockets of her shorts for money.
Now we storekeepers have been trained never to make any tactless, unnecessary comments to our customers other than the standard greetings like "Welcome to Akaii Tomato, may I help you," "Oh yes ma'am/sir, that's a good choice," "No, it's very fresh, I guarantee it" and stuff like that. This is one of the sacrosanct practices you have to master if you work in a convenience store since half the time, you really get your share of the weirdos such as the time when I had to ring up a purchase for a sweet old lady who bought a long rope and several candlesticks (Ugh! Bondage???). There was also the time I had to wait on a hulking fullback type who kept asking me for advice on the number of calories and sugar of each item she pulled out from the shelves. So you see, I'm a professional at this sort of thing. I never make a comment, never embarrass a customer, just take the money, write up the charge slip and I'm done. And this is EXACTLY what I did with Elie's book. Even if it was called "How To Drive Guys Crazy" and all I wanted to do was fall on the floor laughing.
"Here you go Elie, have a nice day."
"Do you mean it, Musica-san?"
"Mean what? Have a nice day? Of course I mean it. Friends always say that to each other."
"Oh…that's what I thought" she trailed off, her mop of mousy, caramel-colored hair covering her face.
"Well…guess I'll see you around in school."
And with that, she left the store, a dejected look plastered all over her face. I returned to Vash's exploits, only I couldn't concentrate. I mean, the last person in the world you'd expect to buy something entitled "How To Drive Guys Crazy" is Elie Valentine. That girl is just about the biggest oddball in her freshman class---no, scratch that, the biggest oddball in the entire school! We're talking here about a girl who was born with a sniper in her hand…no kidding! Elie Valentine is the only girl member of the school's gun club and the only girl to qualify for the national shooting finals in the prefecture. Her first words were "alpha" and "bullseye" and her idea of a social function would probably be the 38th National Shooting Festival. Every time she came to the store, she bought stuff like holsters, bullets, and slings and I figured she's stocking up on reading material on the subject since she's always buying mags like "Bulletproof," "Triple Alpha," and "Point Blank." On top of that, she's a total ditzy dame. Elie is the kind of girl who has never heard of the word "walk" and I'd bet my Mike Cutthroat collection she's probably the only baby who learned to hop first rather than crawl on all fours.
Anyway, the last thing you'd expect Elie to have on her mind was driving guys crazy. Now Reina Rosette. That's a bird with an absolutely different plumage from Elie…and from the rest of the female pack if I may say so myself. And believe me, I'm not exaggerating when I say that I'm not the only guy in school who would dare say that. Any warm-blooded male would fall flat on his collective face before he could even say his two cents worth to Reina Rosette. Reina didn't need a book to tell here how to drive men crazy---Reina could have TUTORED the book's author on the subject. She hardly ever drops by the store but she's in my homeroom at school and drove me crazy for 45 minutes every day. She sat two seats apart from me directly in front of my best friend Haru's desk. She has this habit of tossing her long, forest-green curls and kept hitting my friend Haru's face with it. This drove Haru crazy for he kept getting her hair in his mouth and face, "and God knows if that's the only thing I'm getting from her, " Haru would often quip annoyingly. Well, I saw this as a golden opportunity so the next homeroom, I willingly traded places with Haru and sat behind Reina, inhaling her overpowering jasmine scent, waiting impatiently for the feel of her luxurious locks. But I never did get to feel her hair sweep upon my face. The homeroom teacher found out we switched places during roll call and ordered us to return to our own seats.
I was still wrapped up in my thoughts of Reina when the old granddaddy clock that hung in the far right corner of the store began to bang unceremoniously. It was near 6 p.m. already. In a couple of minutes, my relief Snake, would come by for the night shift. I couldn't believe I spent almost an hour thinking about Elie (with maybe a couple of minutes for Reina, which just goes to show how petty disturbances could mess up your priorities).
What had Elie meant when she asked if I really meant my "Have a nice day" greeting? Why would she be so disappointed if my greeting wasn't that heartfelt, that I merely parroted it the way I do to all customers? Why would she care If I were just being polite or not? I could no longer read the text on the paperback, Elie was driving me nuts! Kami-sama!!! "How To Drive Guys Crazy" was working already. She had bought it only an hour ago and she had already driven one guy crazy---ME.
Then a scary thought crept right through my veins. Was it possible---no, it couldn't be! But then…was it possible that Elie bought that book---to make ME crazy? Why else would she ask such a weird question on my sincerity? Why then would she look as if the entire planet crashed on her when I told her I always say the same lines to my friends? I never thought about it but the feeling of flattery and nausea when mixed together could actually taste like---puke.
That night, I invited Haru over for dinner. I was in such a state of turmoil I was afraid the pizza would go down the wrong way if I ate it alone.
"Oh, I don't know Musica, maybe you're going overboard. Elie's nothing to get sick over." Haru told me, that little smile of his appearing at the corner of his mozzarella-laden mouth.
"I didn't mean sick as in really sick. I just mean---me and the Wild West Queen? What did I ever do to interest Elie? Assuming that she's interested and I hope not!"
"I dunno. Ask yourself that. Besides, what would you have that Reina Rosette would be interested in anyway?"
"I dunno. I don't care. She can use me as a dishrag for all I care!" I blurted out fervently.
"Geez…you're worse off than Elie. Look out, you're spouting anchovies…hehe!"
I glared at Haru. He finds my obsession with Reina unusually unhealthy and manages to push my buttons every chance he gets.
"Some friend you are. I invite you over and spring for the pizza and this is how you help me? Well what do I do now?"
"Musica, let's get things straight shall we? There's nothing you can do---yet. Nothing's happening yet for heaven's sake! Did Elie throw herself at your lap and drool all over you? Did she try to faint in the hallways so you could catch her and carry her in your arms? Did she try to Krazy-glue herself to you in science class? NO. If you were a new gun model, now that would be worth wondering about."
"Very funny, friend." I shot back at Haru, my eyes watering. Somehow, I had managed to swallow a whole anchovy while talking about whom else---Elie the Wild West Queen. "Dire things are about to happen Haru, I can feel it in my gut. That girl is out to get me and I'm about to get shot like a dummy in a shooting gallery."
"Hmm…" Haru trailed out thoughtfully while wrestling with the sticky mozzarella. "Even if you're right, which I completely disagree with at this point, there is one last consolation for you, Musica my good friend."
"Oh? And what's that?"
"Elie's a champion shooter."
It promised to be an ordinary Sunday afternoon at The Akaii Tomato, a 24-hour convenience store and bookshop run by my Uncle Kari, where I work as a part-time bookkeeper, cashier, and all around lap dog. So there I was, sitting in one of the high stools near the candy counter, totally engrossed in a hot new paperback by Mike Cutthroat of the Cutthroat Series. Guess you should know by now, I'm an espionage freak. I get my thrills from wrestling books with heavy, he-man type themes--- blood, gore, awesome fistfights and naturally, gorgeous women encased in slinky satin and tight leather. Well this particular afternoon, I had my head buried in the latest MC release called "Terminate With Extreme Pain." I was getting to the juicy part. Vash, (the series' macho and ultracool hero) was in quite a bind, disarmed by the sexy Eurasian spy, a dagger in her teeth when…
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"What the hell…"
"Musica-san, oi genki deska?" chirped an all-too familiar female voice, cutting through my daydreams and right through the image of the gorgeous Eurasian girl. I threw down the book in exasperation and looked up to find myself in close-range contact with a pair of velvet-brown eyes.
"Musica-san? Can I pay for this book now?"
Elie Valentine pushed her face straight through mine's, so close our noses where almost touching. I bolted back instantly, like some weird shot of electricity passed through the wisp of space that separated us. She blinked several times, her brown eyes immensely curious, as if trying to take a photocopy of my face. Ok, so she had nice enough eyes. But that was about it, appeal-wise. Elie was a kid…a precocious fourteen-year old who's always romping about the streets in her run-down bike and wheeling into Akaii Tomato to ruin my quiet afternoons.
"Ok, Elie, let's have the book."
"Here…ummm…don't look at the title, ne Musica-san?"
"If I don't look at the title, how would I know the price?" I had to hand it to Elie, not only is she BUILT like a 14-year old, she also thinks like one. But that was the least of my problems. I have enough going on in my teenage life without having to worry about some dippy kid whose idea of dressing up is to tie the laces on her sneakers. But little did I know that from that very moment, my biggest worry was about to begin.
"The price is on the back," Elie said nervously, pushing the book towards me.
"I have news for you Elie--- the title is on the back cover too."
"It is? Well…well I…ummm…oh yeah! I think I have enough change here to pay for that. " She made a big show of searching the pockets of her shorts for money.
Now we storekeepers have been trained never to make any tactless, unnecessary comments to our customers other than the standard greetings like "Welcome to Akaii Tomato, may I help you," "Oh yes ma'am/sir, that's a good choice," "No, it's very fresh, I guarantee it" and stuff like that. This is one of the sacrosanct practices you have to master if you work in a convenience store since half the time, you really get your share of the weirdos such as the time when I had to ring up a purchase for a sweet old lady who bought a long rope and several candlesticks (Ugh! Bondage???). There was also the time I had to wait on a hulking fullback type who kept asking me for advice on the number of calories and sugar of each item she pulled out from the shelves. So you see, I'm a professional at this sort of thing. I never make a comment, never embarrass a customer, just take the money, write up the charge slip and I'm done. And this is EXACTLY what I did with Elie's book. Even if it was called "How To Drive Guys Crazy" and all I wanted to do was fall on the floor laughing.
"Here you go Elie, have a nice day."
"Do you mean it, Musica-san?"
"Mean what? Have a nice day? Of course I mean it. Friends always say that to each other."
"Oh…that's what I thought" she trailed off, her mop of mousy, caramel-colored hair covering her face.
"Well…guess I'll see you around in school."
And with that, she left the store, a dejected look plastered all over her face. I returned to Vash's exploits, only I couldn't concentrate. I mean, the last person in the world you'd expect to buy something entitled "How To Drive Guys Crazy" is Elie Valentine. That girl is just about the biggest oddball in her freshman class---no, scratch that, the biggest oddball in the entire school! We're talking here about a girl who was born with a sniper in her hand…no kidding! Elie Valentine is the only girl member of the school's gun club and the only girl to qualify for the national shooting finals in the prefecture. Her first words were "alpha" and "bullseye" and her idea of a social function would probably be the 38th National Shooting Festival. Every time she came to the store, she bought stuff like holsters, bullets, and slings and I figured she's stocking up on reading material on the subject since she's always buying mags like "Bulletproof," "Triple Alpha," and "Point Blank." On top of that, she's a total ditzy dame. Elie is the kind of girl who has never heard of the word "walk" and I'd bet my Mike Cutthroat collection she's probably the only baby who learned to hop first rather than crawl on all fours.
Anyway, the last thing you'd expect Elie to have on her mind was driving guys crazy. Now Reina Rosette. That's a bird with an absolutely different plumage from Elie…and from the rest of the female pack if I may say so myself. And believe me, I'm not exaggerating when I say that I'm not the only guy in school who would dare say that. Any warm-blooded male would fall flat on his collective face before he could even say his two cents worth to Reina Rosette. Reina didn't need a book to tell here how to drive men crazy---Reina could have TUTORED the book's author on the subject. She hardly ever drops by the store but she's in my homeroom at school and drove me crazy for 45 minutes every day. She sat two seats apart from me directly in front of my best friend Haru's desk. She has this habit of tossing her long, forest-green curls and kept hitting my friend Haru's face with it. This drove Haru crazy for he kept getting her hair in his mouth and face, "and God knows if that's the only thing I'm getting from her, " Haru would often quip annoyingly. Well, I saw this as a golden opportunity so the next homeroom, I willingly traded places with Haru and sat behind Reina, inhaling her overpowering jasmine scent, waiting impatiently for the feel of her luxurious locks. But I never did get to feel her hair sweep upon my face. The homeroom teacher found out we switched places during roll call and ordered us to return to our own seats.
I was still wrapped up in my thoughts of Reina when the old granddaddy clock that hung in the far right corner of the store began to bang unceremoniously. It was near 6 p.m. already. In a couple of minutes, my relief Snake, would come by for the night shift. I couldn't believe I spent almost an hour thinking about Elie (with maybe a couple of minutes for Reina, which just goes to show how petty disturbances could mess up your priorities).
What had Elie meant when she asked if I really meant my "Have a nice day" greeting? Why would she be so disappointed if my greeting wasn't that heartfelt, that I merely parroted it the way I do to all customers? Why would she care If I were just being polite or not? I could no longer read the text on the paperback, Elie was driving me nuts! Kami-sama!!! "How To Drive Guys Crazy" was working already. She had bought it only an hour ago and she had already driven one guy crazy---ME.
Then a scary thought crept right through my veins. Was it possible---no, it couldn't be! But then…was it possible that Elie bought that book---to make ME crazy? Why else would she ask such a weird question on my sincerity? Why then would she look as if the entire planet crashed on her when I told her I always say the same lines to my friends? I never thought about it but the feeling of flattery and nausea when mixed together could actually taste like---puke.
That night, I invited Haru over for dinner. I was in such a state of turmoil I was afraid the pizza would go down the wrong way if I ate it alone.
"Oh, I don't know Musica, maybe you're going overboard. Elie's nothing to get sick over." Haru told me, that little smile of his appearing at the corner of his mozzarella-laden mouth.
"I didn't mean sick as in really sick. I just mean---me and the Wild West Queen? What did I ever do to interest Elie? Assuming that she's interested and I hope not!"
"I dunno. Ask yourself that. Besides, what would you have that Reina Rosette would be interested in anyway?"
"I dunno. I don't care. She can use me as a dishrag for all I care!" I blurted out fervently.
"Geez…you're worse off than Elie. Look out, you're spouting anchovies…hehe!"
I glared at Haru. He finds my obsession with Reina unusually unhealthy and manages to push my buttons every chance he gets.
"Some friend you are. I invite you over and spring for the pizza and this is how you help me? Well what do I do now?"
"Musica, let's get things straight shall we? There's nothing you can do---yet. Nothing's happening yet for heaven's sake! Did Elie throw herself at your lap and drool all over you? Did she try to faint in the hallways so you could catch her and carry her in your arms? Did she try to Krazy-glue herself to you in science class? NO. If you were a new gun model, now that would be worth wondering about."
"Very funny, friend." I shot back at Haru, my eyes watering. Somehow, I had managed to swallow a whole anchovy while talking about whom else---Elie the Wild West Queen. "Dire things are about to happen Haru, I can feel it in my gut. That girl is out to get me and I'm about to get shot like a dummy in a shooting gallery."
"Hmm…" Haru trailed out thoughtfully while wrestling with the sticky mozzarella. "Even if you're right, which I completely disagree with at this point, there is one last consolation for you, Musica my good friend."
"Oh? And what's that?"
"Elie's a champion shooter."