Javier was having a tough time adjusting. He found an ok apartment, with a rent he could barely afford. He found a job as a waiter in a fancy restaurant, called Le Restaurant de Marie-Christine and made just enough to cover rent and food. He had to work long hours, and do jobs he hated, but as long as Cuba was far behind him, he was happy. He spent his night working, and his days sleeping or exploring St. Louis. He remembered when he got off the plane, he saw a beautiful girl, who resembled Katey. He was drawn to her, but he didn't think it was possible that this girl was Katey. She stood there, not moving, looking stiff, and dressed in all black. The Katey he knew was nothing like that. His Katey was perfect.
He got home from work at 3 am, after the restaurant closed at 12 and he had mopped, done the dishes, and locked up. He got home, and collapsed on his bed, and before he closed his eyes at night, he looked at a picture on his bed side table. It was a picture Katey had sent him. It was her last night in Havana, and they were the king and queen of La Rosa Negra. Her parents had taken the picture when they had the dance floor. This was the only picture he had of her, and aside from his memories, this was the only thing left of her. He fell asleep until noon, and woke up. He showered, and dressed, and headed out to explore the town.
He explored the shopping malls, and spent a good portion of his day at the park. He sat there, watching the couples, and wishing he could have Katey in his arms. He looked at his pocket watch, and headed home to change for work.
People who visited the restaurant were anything but polite. He lost count of how many people called him a spick, or commanded several order changes and left no tip. They were loud, obnoxious, ungrateful, and just plain rude. He was glad none of them knew much Spanish. That was his stress relief. Insulting them in Spanish. He knew one day he wouldn't have to do this anymore.
