A man in a bright cobalt coat passes by me twice.
I grew up in the city, I may be sheltered, but I’m not stupid. It’s important to be aware of your surroundings. It’s definitely the same man, not two separate people in a similar colored coat.
I am just finishing my hot dog when the figure goes to pass a third time but, instead, stops in front of me, sitting down on my left. The looming man in blue, reeks of booze.
“Heeeey!” A haggard voice blurts.
I stand as if on autopilot, familiar with panhandlers’ tactics. Giving a half-hearted apology for not having cash on me, I toss my trash, then continue toward work.
“Your overalls are cute.”
They're not overalls, but I wasn’t going to argue a moot point. I hit my quota for the day. I give a small smile. “Thank you. Have a nice day.” I started to walk toward The Black Sheep.
“What’s your name?!” He shouts, apparently jogging after me.
“Sorry, I'm not interested. My boyfriend is waiting for me,” I stammer through the lie, while trying to increase my strides.
He’s trailing me despite my pace.
Stay on the busy streets, you're only a few blocks away, I tell myself. Weaving in and out of people, I glance back to find the drunken Smurf keeping up with me. I can see his mouth moving, but he’s too far to hear the incessant banter. His deep-set eyes remain fixed on me, looking almost predatory for a midday drunk.
I need to lose him without risking going down less crowded streets. The Black sheep is only a few hundred feet away, so I take off like a shot. With an instant muscle spasm under one side of my ribs, I practically fell into the bar. Pushing the door closed, I stand against the exit, attempting to catch my breath. I peek out the small porthole of the red door. “Please go past, please go past,” I whisper to myself. Luckily, the man ambles by. I knew I would be safe here. I didn’t exactly want a deranged man following me to work. I have one of those already, thank you very much.
Turning, I find everyone together at a table, staring toward me with a look of pure confusion. Apparently, I was so early… I must have stumbled into some kind of meeting between Eamon, Garron, and Dax.
Eamon was the first to speak. “What’s wrong?” Between breaths I just manage to get out.
“Someone… following… me.”
Eamon snaps, causing Dax and Garron to stand to attention. They both wordlessly make their way out of the bar to find the man in question.
“Blue!” They freeze upon my word. “He has a blue coat,” I add.
Garron nods and they both march out into the streets.
Eamon pats the seat next to him, and I oblige, mostly because I really need to sit. How he treats me makes so much more sense now. Eamon never considered me a lover but closer to a sibling. It’s because of who Theo was to him and how he believes he must carry the burden of looking after me. I still wonder, though… why try to pursue me in the first place? There are still so many pieces missing here. Too many unanswered questions.
“Did you look up what I suggested?” He immediately inquires.
“No, but I looked through a few boxes of family keepsakes. I haven’t found anything noteworthy yet, but I plan to look up Lombardi after work.”
He nods, closing the laptop that was previously open and facing the group of men, before I arrived. “I’m needed at the boxing club this evening. Because of Connor being off today, I’m going to leave you in the capable hands of Dax. Garron will accompany me to the club. Brittany will be in before opening.”
Not him. Garron at least engages me. “Okaaay. Should be a slow night.” I try to say it without sounding entirely disappointed.
Beginning with my opening tasks, Eamon takes down chairs as we wait for Garron and Dax return. With a shrug from Dax, followed by an apology by Garron, it seems they couldn’t locatethe man who tracked me. Just as well, I hope to never see the unhinged person again. When Brittany arrives, Eamon and Garron head out.
Dax finds a table far off in the corner to inhabit, as opposed to his usual spot at the bar. Am I really that off putting? It’s fine because I don’t really care about him either. We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot. Me yelling at him to get out from behind the counter, when he was only trying to get us caught up on clean glassware.
This just seems to be the ongoing trend with men and I. Destined to be pursued by troubled men yet alone… starved of meaningful connection.
Which reminds me, I need to pick up double AA batteries for my vibrator. With my stalker practically ignoring me as of late, I’ve been left to my own devices. Literally!
The brooding introvert nurses a Guinness far from anyone, while Brittany and I have a pretty good handle on things behind the bar. It’s so dead tonight that all the customers just come up to the counter when they want to order.
Brittany asks me for some pain relievers at one point; she appears unwell.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
