Streetlights Through Nylon Stockings (CONTINUE)

Her skin never saw sunlight. After she walked out the door covered with a hat, scarf, gloves, and boots she turned around and locked it with a key. The door was metal, thick, and heavy. She could hear the cars up the street on the avenue making their engines whine and groan.

"What a fucking liar," she thought to herself. The television had been on all day and she heard the echoes of commemoration coins, new ways to process and store food, phone sex and phone psychics, car commercials and tampon commercials make their last pleas to her mind and hands as she left. The television was a liar, surely, but she was thinking about her boss.

She walked down to the subway, swiped her card and waited for a train. Gum spots, dead batteries, a film of grime, loud screeching trains that flew past expressly went unnoticed. Impatient, she kept leaning out over the edge of the platform for the train lights down the tunnel. It came in its time.

It was a long way to work and she was going to be maybe 20 minutes late. This would be a problem for someone. If it was Hank she would be fine but Helen would let her know that she felt challenged. "Fuck them," she resolved. She was reliable, sober, and competent and if they couldn't survive 20 minutes that was on them. The restaurant could practically run itself.

Ben was talking to Todd about how in Japan they have sushi restaurants where you enter your order on a computer screen, chefs make and plate the order and it comes out on a conveyor. Payment is made by a radio chip in the cell phone attached to a credit account. NPR had a piece all about it. A Japanese art student was telling the journalist all about how her mobile phone was more important than everything but life itself to her. Then she recanted this. The young issue so many words, make so many statements that if they were obliged to eat everything they said it would perhaps destroy them.

Todd listened more than he spoke. He listened while looking at the ground, nodding to acknowledge points heard or agreed. Ben liked this style. When Todd replied, if he bothered to reply, it was short and well scoped. "I want a Japanese girl," Todd concluded. In a way, Ben felt that Todd was always fucking with people but this was borne by Ben's sensitivity. He smiled.

As Lauren rode the train along its rattles and stops, she read the back of the free newspaper with all of its ads for vice and treatment. She wished she had a good vice. Maybe a heroin problem or a gambling problem, she weighed her options. They had television shows about people with drug problems. How great would it be to become a sad story, one that's hard to watch because you're embarrassed for all involved, all spectators, participants, and voyeurs. The whole bloody mess looked avoidable. Her stop was next.

Todd told Ben to get a dog. Ben hadn't asked him anything, but Todd felt that Ben would benefit from getting a dog. Ben didn't like dogs, and felt unsure about dog owners. Having to take care of himself seemed enough. When Ben was young he made proud statements about making a million dollars before he was thirty. He did start that and make significant headway before losing course and living life as he discovered it. To be true to himself, he'd set out on a great voyage and had gained large sums if not in finance. Also true, he had spent his most energetic years and come up with little more than memories and some confidence.

Lauren walked into the restaurant and saw Ben & Todd sitting at a table. It was obviously slow. Helen saw her walking up and yelled after her, "Lauren!" Lauren turned around and smiled. Her hands clenched her bag in anger. "Yes? I'm late. What do you need?" "Exactly! I can't have you being late. What will the servers do if they see you coming in whenever you want to? This is not professional!" Helen nagged. "Ok. Can we talk about this later?" Lauren buffered.

Ben and Todd watched. Lauren went through the kitchen doors and Helen went back to the bar. Ben shook his head. Todd smiled at Ben. "You know what this world needs Todd?" "What does it need, Ben?" "Nothing, Todd. It needs absolutely Nothing." "You're strange, Ben." "I'm OK with that though," Ben reassured him. A fat white man and his fat white woman sat down in a booth for six people. "That's you, Todd." "You can take it," Todd came back. Ben growled and got up and brought the fat couple menus.

Lauren dropped her jacket and bag in the office and went back downstairs. When she went back into the bar, Helen had gone for the day. "A break, finally!" she sighed out loud. The bartender looked up and said "Hey." "Hi Sal." White people with burned pink skin sat around the bar under the fans. They drank beers and frozen drinks. It was a hot day after the afternoon rain. Lauren could feel the barometry slowly ebbing. She filled a cup with ice and soda water and took a long drink until the bubbles hurt her throat.

Ben came into the bar to collect the typical holiday drinks served in souvenir cups for his two guests. They were hopeless. They were so hungry and so fat. Fortunately their order wouldn't take long. It shouldn't, at least, because the kitchen was far from busy.