[ I am going to share the first two chapters of the book I am still editing. Please feel free to give me input, any suggestions, or ideas that may come to mind. I am doing this in part to force myself to make this real for me. I keep putting this aside for several reasons, but I truly want to complete it ... posting it will help me get it out of "hiding." I will most likely remove the posts after I get back to the book itself. If I sound silly, well may I am! ha ha I'll publish Chapter Two tomorrow.]
I remember that it was my first day on the job, I was feeling a little nervous, but I knew that I was very good at everything I did so I didn’t worry too much. I had already scoped out the company months before I started.
I spent time dissecting them, and researching what they were about. I knew that I could do the job–I had no problem with that. I was more concerned about the people. Actually, I wasn’t really that worried with them either, I am just trying to be more human.
I don’t care either way about people I work with. I have my limited friends, sometimes I make some good ones at work, but mostly I use them for convenience; when I want people around. I like my solitude–I don’t like to be lonely.
On my first day, I had gone to the break room for lunch. I was going to sit and have some quiet time. As I walked in I thought I was alone although, I did feel something. I decided to investigate the items that were hanging out in the refrigerator anyway.
“You shouldn’t do that.” A voice blared its eyes on the back of my neck. I looked around for the soft, but direct voice. Scanning the room, in a small corner, I saw a covering of brunette hair, with dark eyes. The eyes were so dark that the white surrounding them were like fluorescent bulbs. The obscure figure was cowering into a book that read “Starbucks Preacher.”
She sat being gulped up by a dark gray and deep purple heavy sweater. I could not tell if she was mousy or eccentric. She seemed too confident for mousy, and as I looked in more detail at her sweater I noticed how the threads swirled into odd patterns that normally does not adorn a sweater. I thought she had to be eccentric.
The patterns swam into hexagons, but not really. They were fused with their own breath rotating symmetries that were dancing in my eyes. The sixes covered my visual and then, disappeared. They were coddled in thickness that was very odd, being it was almost 80 degrees outside. Still she looked to be shivering.
As I poured over the sleeves of her sweater I noticed tiny threads hanging and dangling as she held the book in her hand as if it were a pot of gold. She peered over her book only revealing her black eyes. Her iris’s blended with her pupils making it look as if they were one solid vortex of black that was both warm and cold at the same time.
She stared at me with a piercing curiosity. In those few moments, I noticed how she looked like a cat studying me, tilting, and slowly moving her head in wonderment. Was I prey or a playmate? I wondered. I chuckled slightly as she hid her head behind her book then, slowly crept one eye around the corner with a peaking shapely eyebrow. I thought, “She is a ninja cat!”
She had one eye burning on me. I couldn’t help but feel uneasy and yearning at the same time. Who was this odd person and what was she doing? My thoughts became perplexed and uneasy. “I shouldn’t do what?” I asked with tiny annoyance in my voice.
Now she was hiding completely behind her book, with a vanished eye she said, “You shouldn’t snoop through refrigerators.” She closed her book roughly, picked up her belongings abruptly and said, “11 squared. 121 crashed into 4, I like 2, but it always ends with 1.”
As she passed by her long hair spewed out a fragrant smell that I had never experienced before. The back of her walked into a midst of yellow. I noticed that her long strands had sparkles throughout. She was a brunette, but I had never seen so many different colors mixed together making a new kind of brunette-ish hue.
Instantly, I loved all of her oddities. I swear for a moment I saw her glow. As I stood in the break room of my new work place I felt rather exposed after being in her presence. I thought, “What was I to do now after I experienced that?”
She bewildered me with her words and I was then hit with the thought of, “What on earth did she mean with the 11 squared crap?” My thoughts poured, “How did she know I was snooping around in the refrigerator? Was it obvious that I was a lunch thief?” I didn’t want to steal anyone’s lunch–alright I admit I was looking for the unwanted foods. Or possibly a soda that no one would notice. Was it written on the back of my shirt I forgot my lunch?
A flux of questions came over me. It was such a strange encounter that I still have it ingrained into every fiber of my brain. I got angry at the thought that she would assume that I was going to take something, but I was mainly upset with myself. She was right I was snooping, and I got caught. I decided then that I was staying away from that girl. She was dangerous. I didn’t want any part of her. I burned that in my brain, tattooing it to remind me to stay clear.
The rest of the day however, I couldn’t stop thinking of her. I wondered what she was about. I remember thinking, “My god! I am consumed.” I told myself to shake it off. I considered her some strange girl who happened to guess what I was doing. I did decide to leave that day to get something to eat, I had an hour for lunch.
My first day was not too bad; I seemed to like the people. I do hang out with some of them on occasion. I had met a few of them at a local bar; geeks seem to gravitate toward each other. Although, I admit I am a pretty cool geek. I do manage to get the ladies – I feel confident in my flirting abilities. However, when I think about it I usually spend my efforts on woman who I really do not care about. I do have a habit of playing with women who I know are safe. Playful emotional banter is fine, we both get what we need without any real attachment – at least on my part. I find most women lackluster even if they are physically attractive. Sometimes I get lucky with the beautiful intelligent girl, but mostly I find them devoid.
Nothing against any of them, I can’t seem to keep my heart stuck on one. I love women; I want to be surrounded by women. I want to swim in women…not really I am trying to be manly here. I am a ladies’ man, but I can’t care for the ladies.
I tried love once. I have had plenty of women, but they never last long. Sometimes I feel dirty even being around them. It is not because there is anything wrong with them per say, but their minds, their interests, their looks, their smell, their feel, their color, their number; I don’t know they never fit. They never add up to the correct sum.
There are times when I walk the streets, the number flashes at me from a license plate, or an address and I think, “What the hell did she mean by 11 squared. 121 crashed into 4, I like 2, but it always ends with 1.”
Damn it! That sentence still makes me naked. She saw me and spoke it and I continue to convince myself I do not know what it means.
She was the first day of my unwelcomed awakening. The job was alright, it wasn’t what I wanted, but it helped me get to where I wanted to go. I couldn’t stop thinking about her words for days after that encounter. I could not stop smelling her or seeing the waves of color that flowed from her. I can smell her now and see the colors clearly. I will eventually press it all down as I did before. I do enjoy remembering some days – it makes me smile.
She made me see things differently; I swear she was like a walking rainbow. I find it all so disturbing because she made me think things like that. From the moment I met her, I felt like I walked into a movie. It was being made without our knowledge, some strange iconic flick. I remember telling myself that I didn’t want anything to do with her, ever.
She made me think of music – she still does.