Balcony Confessions Are So Overrated

The next day, I got home after my shift at the diner I worked at and my feet were stinging and my legs felt as if they never wanted to bend again. All I wanted was to listen to some music and go to sleep.

As I entered through the shabby wooden door I threw my bag containing accursed roller skates to my left and made a beeline for my dresser. I pulled off my skirt and pulled on a pair of extremely baggy blue sweat pants from my high school. Then I went to pull off my shirt, just as I got it over my head I heard a loud thump and spun to look at what it was.

My eyes narrowed when I saw that it was my strange male neighbour. “What are you doing here?! Breaking and entering is illegal! Are you aware of that?!”

“Well, I was just trying to get even for our first meeting… and apparently in more way than just entering your home uninvited.” He glanced down at my pink, lacy bra. I realized that I wasn’t wearing my shirt and squealed.

“Look away!” I spun around and dug through my drawers, grabbing the first shirt that I could. It was a slightly too small black t-shirt. I walked to over to this intrusive boy and hit him on the bicep… hard.

“Ow! I’m all for dominating women, but that was a bit excessive!” He exclaimed while gently massaging his arm.

“Well, maybe now you won’t be such a creep anymore!”

“You were the one who was just hanging out without a shirt!”

“I was home alone! I should be able to dress however I want in my own apartment!”

“Well, you walked in on me without a shirt.”

I stabbed him in the chest with my fingernail. “But, you’re male! It’s different!”

He gave me a light shove back. “That is so sexist.”

“Get the hell out,” I growled.

“With pleasure.” He turned and began climbing over the balcony. I turned around and went to my fridge. “Oh, but, Doll, there’s one more thing.”

“What?!” I snarled spinning around.

“You look good without a shirt.” He winked and then with that, he launched himself from my balcony.

I just stood there; my mouth hanging open and my face burning.

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I had to go to work the next day at 9 o’clock. I work at a diner that’s one of the tiniest corners in the city, which is hard to find in Toronto. As I put on the ridiculous uniform I couldn’t help but think of as many different ways to kill the owner of the restaurant, Sandy Connelly. It’s a 50s theme diner so I have to wear one of the annoying pink waitress uniforms, like Monica had to on the show Friends, except without the fake boobs and blonde wig.

I pulled on my shoes and grabbed my bag that kept the roller skates I would be requiring for the day. I was halfway out the door when I remembered I would have to pull my hair back and I dashed back into the apartment and grabbed a hair elastic and slipped it around my wrist. I pulled the door closed behind me and locked it. I glanced at my watch, 8:37. If I didn’t hurry I was going to be late. I walked down the puke green hallway and attempted to pull my hair back while holding my bag containing the roller skates. I was so caught up with my efforts that I didn’t look where I was going and collided with someone’s chest.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I pushed past the person.

“Hey, it’s you,” A voice said as I was walking away and I spun around to see the guy who had been blasting the MCR two day before, Ainsley.

“My name’s Eve, I believe I told you that…” I replied. I turned to walk away.

“I knew your name was Eve I just wanted to make you think I didn’t remember you. It makes me seem like I don’t remember all the beautiful women I meet. I wanted to apologize for last night. I didn’t mean to come off like such a dick.” Ainsley called from behind me. I heard quick footsteps and then Ainsley appeared at my side.

“Well, thank you. But, I must ask you. Are you trying to seem like a sleazy douche bag using lines like that?” I questioned, rolling my eyes.

“Oh, I definitely am. Where are you going dressed like that?” he inquired surveying my body, I suddenly felt naked.

“Costume party. It doesn’t matter to you why I’m going out in public like this,” I snapped. Mornings were not my time of day.

“Sorry, I just get curious when people are leaving their homes dressed like 1950s waitress Barbie. Oh! Do you work at a 50s diner?” he asked. What was with this guy, did he need to know every little bit of information?

“Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner!” I exclaimed sarcastically. We had arrived in the lobby and I glanced at my watch, 8:43. Shit, I’m going to be late. “Listen if you’re going to keep talking, it better be to yourself because I have to leave now.” I turned and exited through the door onto the sidewalk. I started walking to the bus stop when I looked down the street and saw the bus driving away.

“Shiiiiiit.” I muttered to myself, drawing out the ‘I’. And I looked around secretly hoping for some form of transportation to magically appear on the busy street. Nothing did.

“I have a car.” I heard Ainsley say behind me.

“Fine, but let’s go, I have 15 minutes to get to work before my manager kills me.