Night Songs

A blustery cold night began in the city of New York. I was sitting in my old, deflated recliner, watching Family Ties. I hear a knock at the door. I got up after spewing a loud sigh, regarding my displeasure of visitors. I mean, I did like visitors, but the ones that usually did visit are the landlord, my sister, or my ex-boyfriend. My ex-boyfriend broke up with me, for one. And two, he keeps thinking we can have sex either way. I never give in, but I always think it over, since it's been a year and a half that I haven't had sex. I'll I do now is the manual way, by myself, if you catch my drift.

I slid the locks and chains to unlock the heavy door, and noticed that Sarah, my co-worker, was shivering and looked like she had something serious to say.

"Sarah? How'd you find me?" I questioned.

"I looked it up on the computer." She passed by me, into my apartment, and sat on my couch, and flipped the channels to my old 27'' Panasonic TV that I got two years ago, from my Mother as a hand me down.

I walked over, curious as to why is she's here.

"Do you have any Ruffles or something?" She turned from the couch.

"Uhh, yeah, are you staying?" I was wide eyed, and oblivious. But I always was taught to be a good host from my Mother. She was very old fashioned, and so it rubbed off of her and onto me. Damn it.

"Wait, before you get the Ruffles, I need to ask you something!" She screamed like she thought I was already attending to her selfish needs. God, she can be a big "cee, you, next Tuesday," sometimes. She does this at work too.

"Okay, well, what is it?" I folded my arms, and leaned against the wall. This is probably going to be a while.

"Well, ummm, I was going to ask if you can cover my shift on Monday..." she had a guilty smile.

It dawned on me.

"That's tomorrow!" I shouted in disbelief. I mean, I didn't have anything to do tomorrow. But, I didn't want her to know that. I basically live my days alone, with my cat. I feel like this is what I'm going to be doing when I'm 40, and I'm only 22 years old.

"I'm sorry...I already talked it over with one of the managers. He said it was okay." she cringed again.

I again, sighed one of my usual sighs.

"Fine, I'll do it..." I rubbed the back of my neck.

"Awesome! Thank you so much, man!" she exclaimed.

I walked over to her while she was watching TV, and I plopped back on my recliner. She flipped through channels so fast, that I was glad I wasn't epileptic. Then she stopped. It was MTV. They were playing a video from ---

"Cinderella!" She shouted at the top of her lungs. "Oh, my god! I love this band! They are so fucking awesome, Faye!"

"Really?" I smiled, politely.

"Yes! You don't even know who they are?! They're a new band from Philly!" she continued with her spouts of excitement.

"No, I haven't heard of them..." I was curious.

I stared at the television for a few minutes. Sarah totally forgot about my existence. I continued to watch. Their video was called "Shake Me," I focused on the singer. He was wearing tight leather pants, and had big hair with hidden blonde streaks. The video was cute. It had a girl being Cinderella, and her two step sisters going to a concert that they can't get into. The Cinderella magically shows up to the concert, and rides with them in a limo at the end. It was every girl's dream, to ride away in a limo with a famous rock n' roll band. I didn't blame the girls who did. It was a little fantasy of mine too. But, I felt too jaded to keep thinking about my fantasies. But, the singer was pretty cute. I still kinda liked him.

"God, that Tom Keifer sure is smokin' hot!" she said in a dreamy voice. I couldn't help but laugh at her. She was a walking cliché. But she wasn't happy at the fact that I was laughing.

"Oh, just try and tell me that he's not hot! Just look at him, Faye!" she pointed to the screen. The video was already over, and started to play a Madonna video.

"Papa don't preach, I'm in trouble deep! Papa don't preach, I've been losing sleep-"

"SHUT UP!" she turns off the TV, and smacks the remote down onto the couch.

"Hahaha, what's with you and Madonna?" I chuckle. Hell, I'm not a Madonna fan either; I just like to tease her.

"She's a fucking whore, that's what!" she yelled at my cat as she came striding in from my bedroom.

"Hey, now, don't yell at Fauna..." I pout.

I grab the Fauna, and begin to scratch her neck. She purred with delight.

"Ah, sorry..." It took her back that I had a cat.

"Ha-ha, I'm teasing, she forgives you!" I laugh. Sarah gives me a very weird look. Man, my first impressions with people usually end with them thinking I'm a crazy cat lady.

"Yeah...It's late, I should go..." she slowly and unsurley said. I knew what she was thinking.

"Oh, okay, I guess I'm going to work on Monday." I smiled.

"Yeah, thank you." She awkwardly smiled back.

She opened the door herself, and hopped out of my apartment, and slammed the door. I was still sitting on my recliner with Fauna in my arms.

"See Fauna, this is what I do to people. I scare them away with my crazy cat obsession." I pout.

I lift her to my face.

"What do you think about that?"

"Meow..." she licked my nose with her gritty, sand paper tongue.

"That's what I thought." I smiled, and placed her back on my lap.

Monday morning was a drag at the Piggly Wiggly. Man, I really hate saying "Piggly Wiggly."The first thing the manager told me was to stock the shelves. The thing is, I've been stocking shelves since I got here. I only had one try at the cashier position, but that didn't go over to well with our female boss. I had a couple of guy's numbers thrown at me while I was working up front. I had no idea why. I wasn't even flirting with them.

I continued to stock shelves when I realized I'm the only one in the store. Everybody went out for lunch, or they didn't make it through the snow drift from this morning. This was not good. I'm a pro at stocking shelves, but I'm not allowed on the register. Who the hell just left their post, and not tell me? I'm beginning to rethink this whole job.

I'm just going to continue to restocking shelves. I'm just crossing my fingers for customers not to walk in now. Whoops, I take that back. The door swung open. Two men came in while laughing, loudly. This is not going to end well.

"So, I say to this chick that's covered in...Wait, is there anybody here?!" he shouted.

I cringed. Why today? Why is there nobody else here? I take pills for this social anxiety crap!

I lifted my head.

"May I help you?" I forced a smile.

I noticed what I was looking at. The two of the men from that Cinderella video! My eyes begin to widen, and my mouth joined in. The blonde one, who I think is the bass player, was here, and who joined him was...wow. The lead singer. He was wearing skin tight, black leather pants with sliver studs that aligned the seams. A black blazer, with a tight, black v-neck shirt under it. His hair was the same from the video, but only without the blonde streaks. His lips looked pouty, and his chin was broad. His blue eyes caught my attention. He was smiling at me. I blushed.

"Yeah, miss, there's no Ruffles." The blonde one demanded. He noticed I was just bluntly staring at his friend, who continued to smile at me.

"Miss, you there?" He was annoyed.

I came back from my short term daze.

"Ah, yes! I'm sorry. I'm feeling a little bit under the weather today." I lightly smiled. Geez, am I from Gone With The Wind now? "I'll get you the Ruffles." I took out my box cutter, and sliced the box open that was next to me. At last, his Ruffles were handed to him.

"I'm sorry, sir." I awkwardly smiled. I was too close to the singer. I began to sweat.

"Yeah, thanks..." He took the bags and went to the cashier stand. The singer followed.

A minute passed.

"Miss! Is there a cashier around here?!" he shouted from across the store. It was a very little store, by the way.

I hit my head in embarrassment. God, I'm not going to get through this easily, not in front of "him."

I walk over towards the register with a permanent smile on my face.

"Are you the only one who works here?" he smirked.

"Yes, for the time being. I really don't know where everyone went." I was honest.

He looked over to the singer, and smirked. "Probably, shot em' all..." he quietly laughed. I heard that. I just sunk deeper into humiliation.

The singer nudged the bass player in the ribs, hard.

"Ow! Shit!" he wailed.

"Lay off of her, man!" he shouted in the blonde's direction.

"I'm sorry about him." he smiled.

I looked down in embarrassment. "It's okay..." I was a little happy that he stuck up for me.

I checked them out, with no other problems. The blonde went out of the door, and the singer didn't follow. He was standing in the same spot in back of the register. I was blushing so much just to be in his presence. He was charming.

"Hey, what are you doing later?" he questioned.

"Excuse me?" I was in utter disbelief that he would be talking to the likes of me.

"What are you doing later?" he smiled.

I just stared at that bright, full smile of his.

"Umm, uuh, I'm working..." I kept looking down.

"What about after work? You doing anything then?"

"I, uh, no, I'm not doing anything then."

"I'm asking because, me and Eric, The Ruffles guy, are going to a party in Manhattan at 11:00 o'clock, would you like to come?"

A party? I haven't been to one of those in a while. I feel like a dried up, old raisin.

"Su...sure, where is it?" I lifted my head.

"I'll come by and pick you up," he smiled again, "where do you live?"

I stop myself. He's going to be picking me up? The singer of Cinderella? Why?

"I live-"

"Just write it down for me, and I'll come and get yah."

I found a pen underneath the register, and began to write down the address on a Piggly Wiggly, coffee stained napkin. My hands were shaking while I gave him the paper.

"So, 10:30?" he smiled.

"Yeah...sure." I smiled back.

The blonde one, Eric, came back into the store.

"What the hell, Tom?!" he shouted.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm comin'...” He walked off, and out of the store.

I felt like I was in a fog. Was this real? Is it my imagination? I stopped thinking, and just continued with my work, stocking shelves. Oh, boy was I born to do this.