3
It was lazy and lonely at the Forum Deli, and all Bill could do to stay awake was linger near the small dining area and leer at the three college girls that were finishing their supper. The light snow had transitioned to a hard, cold rain, and the piped-in generic country music had sputtered out because of the storm, leaving their quiet conversation as the sole means of entertainment. He tried not to make it obvious, languidly wiping the counter near the register one more time, shuffling the stacks of magazines back and forth along their rails, but he knew and the girls knew that he was listening, and they made no attempt to hide their words. It was a tacit understanding they came to, and they both seemed to derive some pleasure from the deal.
“So when are we gonna get a ride in your new car?” asked the girl closest to him. He figured her name was Sarah, or Sally. She didn’t come into the deli much, unless it was with one of her friends. She was a quiet sort, but with a bitter tongue that lashed out whenever he was a little sloppy with her change.
“Mmm . . . we’ll see,” cooed the prettiest one, that Bill always noticed. He knew her name; Patty Dillard, and she was a junior biology major at Zorrell. She was a regular; that is, she came in every Tuesday and Thursday during the past semester to get a pop and a candy-bar. He figured it was after a tough class, because she looked like she needed it. The deli was like some fairyland, where the college kids could buy all the food that was bad for them, and no one would see them eat it. Which is why the girls were sitting there at nine at night on a cold, rainy Thursday, eating tuna-fish subs slathered with cheese and mayonnaise, with an extra-large basket of fries jostled in-between tall cups of brown-colored pop. Of course the pop was diet, as it was a hard habit to break. Of course, they had to chronicle their adventure on-line, taking a photo and posting it on one of the temp photo sites, as if daring someone, anyone to discover their secret.
Patty leaned back in her chair, letting her hair fall a little down. Bill paused for a moment in his wiping of the counter, his eyes transfixed by the smooth patches of skin she revealed along her shoulder and arms. It was a brisk night out, but it was warm inside, and their coats hung sloppily on the metal chair-backs, leaving them in tight t-shirts or tank tops. Then he suddenly collected himself, as he could feel the amused eyes of the other two girls laughing at him.
“It’ll make you sick to keep lookin’ on somethin’ you can’t have—at least, not yet,” said Greg, the owner, suddenly appearing in the doorway to the stockroom. Bill had thought he was still out at the caucus, but Greg could always move with a stealth that was admirable.
“One day,” said Bill quietly, as he came over to Greg, who was taking out the few expired pop bottles from the cooler. “One day, I’ll have a girl just like her.”
“One day, I’ll open another store. One day, I’ll have some kids. One day,” muttered Greg, as he flung another bottle into the waste, “has been the story of my life. You don’t need to wait to find a girl like her. There’s plenty of good one’s in your class! I see ‘em all come in here. You’ve got some real lookers.”
“Yeah, but none of them look at me. I just need to get in shape, and lose these pimples. Then, I can find someone right for me.”
“You think any of those people runnin’ for President said shit like that? No, they know what they want, and they just take it. Senator Ford was at my caucus, and you shoulda heard her speak! Grew up poor, with a daddy that left and a mommy that didn’t speak any English. What’d she do? Taught herself the language, worked two jobs to stay in school, and now look at her!” Bill just shrugged his shoulders. “Damned shame,” spat Greg, a little angry and frustrated, as he slammed the cooler door shut. “You won’t be nothin’ in this whole damned life if you don’t listen. Now throw this shit away, and put up the chairs. We’re closin’ in ten minutes.”
He turned, and despite Greg’s anger, Bill had to look once more on Patty—no force on Earth could have stopped him. She wasn’t just a crush for him, for he had those all while he was in lower grade school. This was the first time his whole body wanted a girl, the first time he imagined someone without their clothes on, lying with him, doing things to him. There were times that she would just pop in for a candy-bar that he thought he was going to explode. He was too young and too dumb to realize she enjoyed playing with him, got a little thrill out of getting him all worked up just to leave him alone with himself. But he had a dull sense of it just the same, and as the long months of fall were turning to the longer days of winter, his lust was also cooling into a dull rage.
“Come on, boy; get those chairs up!” yelled Gary from the stockroom.
“Yeah!” yelled Bill back. He forced himself not to look at her, and got the store ready for closing, knowing he would need to ring her and her friends out. Suddenly the door opened, and Bill cursed to himself.
Damn perv.
One of the college boys came in, another regular, except he never came for the food. The Deli was also close by one of the major interstates, and as such they made money primarily from four crucial commodities: food, cigarettes, booze, and porn. In his first days and weeks working at the Deli, not even Bill could resist the lure of free porn. When Greg, or Sandy (the other cashier there) would be on break or in the back, he would greedily flip through the four-foot long row of magazines. There were all kinds, from the tame ones showing women in various states of undress, to the hardcore, pseudo-sex mags. Then, one day Greg caught him looking a little too hard, and requested from his supplier that all the harder magazines come in an opaque wrapper. The truckers didn’t care—they didn’t open them until they got back in their rigs. But the college kids cared, and probably would’ve jumped Bill and beat him senseless if they found out who ruined their free fun.
Because the worst thing to do was to actually buy one—at least for the shy boys that tended to look at those mags. The smart ones just came in to browse, and they covered their true goal by opening a car magazine first, then putting the other one inside. Bill learned that trick the first time he had to straighten the rack; almost a quarter of the car mags had some porn mag inside. He cursed himself for not figuring out that trick before Greg caught him.
But the college boy in now was one of the few that actually bought the magazines. And he never came by during the day. He always came by just a few minutes before closing, when most times there was no one in the Deli. And the few times he was confronted with just this situation, with some of the girls from college still sitting, and he perused the car magazines, biding his time.
The three girls came to the counter, and Bill hurriedly rung up their sale.
“$18.04.”
“Oh, wait,” said one of them, glancing back to the boy looking at the magazines. “Ring me up separate—I think I wanna get another soda to take home.”
“Don’t forget where you are," said Sally, or Sarah. "It’s ‘pop,’ not ‘soda.’ Everyone’ll look at you.”
“What-ever. You got it?”
“Ok,” replied Bill. He took off her sale. “That’s $12.35.”
“I got it,” said Patty, as she began to dig in her purse for her wallet.
“No, no,” said the other girl, the Sarah or Sally, firmly, pushing Patty out of the way. “I’ve got it.” She put her card on the counter, flicking it down with emphasis, watching as Bill’s expression turned from joy to disgust. He picked it up quickly and slid it through, waiting for the approval code.
“So tell me . . . Bill,” she said, after obviously glancing at his name badge, “how come we always find you here?”
“I dunno,” he replied meekly, his eyes glued to the register that was taking way too long to give him the code.
“Don’t you have other things to do? You still in High School?”
“Yeah.”
The girl smirked, and flashed Patty a wide grin, who in turn began to walk away.
“What’s life like for a townie boy? What’s that school . . . Dubuque County High?”
The code finally c
ame through, and Bill sighed with relief.
“Yeah, that’s the school in town, but I don’t go there,” he said quickly, as he presented the slip for her to sign. He even put the pen neatly by its side, hoping she would just finish and leave. But she picked up the pen and clumsily twirled it in her hand.
“Then where do you go?”
“Alliance.”
“The boarding school?!” She cooed, slapping her palm on the counter. “Oh Patty, this is a good one! You’ve got to have some money to get in there . . . don’t you?”
“I don’t know. My parents put me in there.”
“Oh, I see,” she replied flatly, the joy gone from her voice. She signed the slip, and handed it to him. She smiled at him, but this time with some actual compassion. “I’ve been there. See you later.”
He watched as they left, wondering what she meant. The college boy finally picked out his porn mag, and brought it to the counter, but didn’t notice the other girl that went to the cooler to get a pop, and as he pulled out his wallet, the other girl quickly and quietly crept up behind him. Bill was irritated by the college boy, and held up the magazine as he put it in a brown paper bag, guessing what she was after.
“What’s that,” asked the girl loudly, “a Cosmo?”
Bill almost burst out laughing, but with all the willpower he could muster, he kept a straight face as the boy in front of him blushed a new shade of purple.
“That’s just sick,” she continued, as the college boy got his change and turned to the door. “I shouldn’t have to see that sort of stuff—can’t you get a girl?!” she shouted, as she laughed hysterically. “I guess that’s why you’re here!”
After he left, Bill rung up her sale, and she slipped him a ten as the lights in the store went out.
“Guess you see a lot of that?”
“Yeah,” he replied carefully. He was never good at direct, one-on-one conversation—especially with a college girl. “Here’s your change. Have a good night.”
“Thanks.” She was about to leave, then she paused for a moment. “Sorry about my friend—she always likes to tease guys. I’ll tell her to back off—you’re not so bad.”
She flashed him a smile, and ran out to join her friends. Bill sighed with relief that the day was finally done.