No Idea

Let’s start this daily routine. I walked towards my closet picking my outfit for my paid internship at the local news station outside of Baltimore. Though, I’m the bitch at the work. I get the coffee and I carry the heavy ass equipment to the news van. I’m not complaining because this will look great on my resume. I am fresh out of college and already basically have a job. I also have side job, I make jewelry and sell it at local boutiques. With those combined, I get to live.

After I took my shower, I got dressed in a very colorful blazer, pink sleeveless blouse, and black slacks. I pulled my hair into a ballerina bun and lined the top eyelid with black eyeliner. I looked into the mirror and I looked like a fierce bitch. I kinda loved it to be honest. Before I left the house, I looked at myself in my reporter mode casting off, “I’m Roxanne Romo wishing you to stay classy.”

As usual, my first duty of the day is to get the people their coffee. Before I even went to work, I stopped at the closest Starbucks on the way. Like always, I got there an hour before work so I could relax and watch all the business people scramble. I whipped out my macbook and started to do some research on this cold case that happened a few years back. I may be young, but I’m determined to help those who haven’t gotten their answers. This case was about young girl, not even close to double digits, getting abducted and no one knows who did it. They found the body, but barely any good evidence. As I kept doing my research someone sat across from me.

I slammed my laptop, “Can I help you?” I made sure whoever sat down at my table knew I was annoyed. Until I noticed it was the guy from the other night.

He scratched the back of his head, “I’m sorry. I just didn’t catch your name when we met the first time.”

“I’m flattered and all, but I don’t want to date.”

He laughed, “Someone’s conceited.” He smirked. That smirk though, it was unbelievably sexy. “Look, obviously we both don’t want to date. I could careless to be single or not and from what I can tell, you just don’t want to at all. I just wanted to know your name and make small talk as I wait for my coffee.”

I hid my face as I felt it heat up, “I’m soo sorry. I didn’t mean to come off as conceited. I-I I just assumed.” This boy has got me stammering on my words. I never stammer, ever.

“Alex,” he held out his hand, “firm.” He commented on my shake.

“Roxanne, but people call me Rocky,” I smiled, “Sadly, I have to cut this down to two minutes and leave.”

I started to walk to the now open lane to the barista and they already knew my company’s order. After I paid I waited like usual, but Alex came up to me.

“I thought you were leaving,” he raised an eyebrow.

“In the process.” I responded.

“Mhm. Here.” He handed me a folded napkin and waved good bye.
I opened the napkin and it read; Friends? 555-0000 –Alex G.
I laughed and went on my way with six coffees.

---

“So you’re telling me he gave you his number Tuesday and you haven’t texted him yet,” Stacey was just repeating what I said to her, “It’s been three days!”

“Yeah?” I gave her a weird look. “Stace, you know out of everyone, I don’t have time to be socializing. I mean we have to schedule when we hang out.”

Stacey gave me annoyed look, “Just fucking text him. You need someone else to be your friend besides me and Terry.” She’s referring to my ball python that she hates.

“Leave Terry out of this!” I laugh as I took a sip of my red wine. “If it makes you happy, I’ll text him right now.”
Stace jumped up and down trying not to spill her wine on my tan carpet.

To: Alex G.
Alex? This is Roxanne.

Just seconds later.

From: Alex G.
Oh hey Rocky! :) What are you up to?

We bantered for an hour through text and I think Stacey was watching me the whole time.

“You’re being fucking creepy, Stace.”

“Sorry, I’ll just watch Grey’s instead of you,” she laughed.

From: Alex G.
What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?
I was puzzled. Is he asking me out on a date?

“Lunch isn’t a date, right?” I asked Stacey. She nodded. “Wait it is!” She shook her head no.

To: Alex G.
Probably eating at my house while doing work.

From: Alex G.
LAME! You’re eating with me at TGIFridays. I’ll pick you up.

I texted him back agreeing to lunch. I also lied saying that I was about to pass out.

---

I got dressed in studded jean shorts and my comfiest t-shirt. It’s a perfect summer day for this outfit. I wasn’t even done getting ready and I heard my doorbell.

“Fuck off,” I heard Stacey mumbled as she lay on my couch. Some odd reason four glasses of red wine gives Stacey hangovers from hell. I told her to stop, but noooo. “Could you show more cleavage?”

“Actually I could,” I said before I answered the door. It was Alex and he pranced right in without me inviting him. What a cocky bitch. He was about to plop on my couch until he noticed a body.

“Did you kill someone?” He asked me.

I laughed, “She’d be better off dead right now.” I saw Stacey tiredly throw a fist in the air to agree with me. “Stacey, meet Alex. Alex, Stacey.”

Stacey sat up holding her head, “Not to mention I’m her best fucking friend that’s beyond hungover.”

“Nice to meet you, Stacey. You should meet my best friend, Jack, sometime. I have a feeling that the both of you would get along,” Alex said.

“Dude, you’re trying to hook me up. Do that when I’m not dead, please. Now go off to lunch so I can sleep. Also, bring me those potato bacon things!” She went back into her blankets.

---

Alex and I having a great time. He’s telling me all of these stories of him and his friends and they’re hilarious.

“So what do you do?” I say between laughter.

He smirked, “I’m in a band called All Time Low.”

“You got to be fucking me!”

“You’ve heard of us?” He asked.

I laughed, “Nope.”

“Bitch,” he laughed, “How about yourself?”

“I’m an intern at Fox7 news. Basically, I do the bitch work, but I get paid.”

“You gotta have a cast off or something,” he said.

I smirked, “This is Roxanne Romo signing off. Stay classy, San Diego.”

Alex busted into laughter, “Romo, you’re fucking rad.”

I think I made a friend.