LITR 3731 Creative Writing 2006

Javier Carbajal

Today Will Always Be Tomorrow

Monday, 4:04 pm: I take off my Ray Ban sunglasses that I like to show off every now and then, I get off my car and I start walking from the furthest corner in the parking lot all the way to the Home Depot back entrance. I’m probably the only person who likes to quote Shakespeare as a form of therapy.

“Now is the winter of our discontent / Made glorious summer by this sun of York. Damn. It is hot out here!” As I make my way to the building, I check my watch for the fifth time since I left the car. Yep, five minutes after four in the evening, so chances are that one of the managers is going to make a smart ass comment about my lateness. I’m also crossing my fingers that no one will notice that I haven’t shaved since yesterday morning. I stop in the middle of the gigantic and nearly deserted parking lot and I glance at the big, orange logo on top of the store. It suddenly hits me that exactly two years ago to this day I started working for The Home Depot Corporation. My plan is to continue breaking my lower back in this place, at least until I get out of college in three years.

Jesus Christ, three years working in this hell hole! Yeah, and then what? Damon Albarn sure nailed it right on the head when he sang “Today will always be tomorrow”. It’s true that up to this point I’ve been living my life within a comfort zone, but I will no longer let those lyrics apply to my lifestyle. I am fully determined to avoid falling into the pitfall that symbolizes middle class society along with its meaningless daily routines. And to prove my point, I am carrying in my left pocket the key that will open the door to an unpredictable and exciting life. Every thousand hours, the idealist person in me motivates me to think ambitiously, but I always fail to perform on these ambitions to a satisfactory level. That loser mentality will not be tolerated anymore because I have decided that I’m going be perfect from now on. I’m going to be perfect starting now.

I am clocking in for the night. What better way to celebrate a new chapter in my life than by quoting a gold ol’ Bard classic: “Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player / That struts and frets his hour upon the stage / And then is heard no more. Well, I’ll bet my soul on this promise: My life will never be a walking shadow; instead it’ll be a monument: solid, tough and forever lasting. And if my Macduff ever dares to show up, I will cut off his head before he even has a chance to deliver one monologue.”

Monday, 4:31 pm: I work the cash register at the Home Depot and that’s fine by me. I don’t think it would be convenient for me to get more involved in the other departments, despite my managers’ wishes. It’s starting to get cloudy outside, so I guess I should start looking for something to dust off. I’ve only had to ring up five customers so far. Well, actually it’s only been four people; the last guy had a problem with his credit card but he told me that he would come back with some cash in a couple minutes. That was fifteen minutes ago so I’m not holding my breath.

Slow, slow, slow. I guess I should start thinking about my strategy for tonight. Hold on a sec. Spider-sense tingling, some kind of evil entity sneaking up behind me.

“Ha-Vee-Err!! What’s the deal, man?”

Ah yes, here’s Steve. A legend to many in the tiling department. Amazingly enough, this guy’s been working here for four years and some people still consider him mentally stable. He’s a real tight guy and I get along with him fine, but he can get a bit unpredictable sometimes. His real name is Ali Hussaini and something or other, but we just call him “Steve”. He’s three years older than me and he also got his bachelor’s degree six months ago. I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t know in what field he got his degree on. I guess I’ll just ask him later. He’s starting to look at me weird, so I guess I better say something.      

“Not doing much of anything. Are you leaving already?”

“Yeah, man. Jeffrey told me that he’s going to be training this new guy. He said that he was watching the Weather Channel this morning, and it’s gonna rain pretty much all night, so there’s no point for me hanging around here doing nothing. Hey, listen man, you have any matches, or a lighter at least?”

“Sorry Steve, I don’t smoke.”

“Oh right. I thought I saw you tripping just now, but that’s cool.  Hey, be a sweetie and let me use the phone in your register, ok?”

“Here you go. Remember that you have to dial 8 to get an outside line—“

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Steve chuckles and presses the 9 key followed by a local phone number. “Hey, Laura? Yeah, I’m off the clock now. Cool. I’ll see ya in a bit. Yeah? No, that’s ok, I’ll wait. Bye.” He hangs up, he rubs his eyes with his left hand and then he turns his attention to me. “Well, I hope you don’t mind if I keep you company for the next ten minutes or so. My ride won’t be here in awhile.”

“No, that’s all right.” It was starting to rain heavily outside. I didn’t see any managers anywhere so I just lean back on the register machine.

“How are you, man? How’s San Jackie going?”

“Eh. It’s going. Only a couple more semesters till I transfer to You of Ech.”

“Yeah, you told me once. Got any big plans this weekend?”

“Eh. Nah.” My apathy is followed by an awkward moment of silence. Someone should give me an award for Best Conversation Killer in the City of Houston. I guess it’s up to me bring this chat back to life.

“Well, actually I do have something coming up.”

I put my hand in my left pocket and I pull out a couple of Ticketmaster entries. This was the key to open the door to a new chapter in my life, but I never pictured someone like Steve to be on the other side of that door.

“Nice. For what band is that?” Steve can’t hide the amusement in his face.

“We’re going to see Blur in two weeks at the Verizon Theatre.” For whatever reason, Steve starts laughing uncontrollably, and then once he regains his composure, he replies, “Blorr? Who’s that? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him. Or them. Is this band or a solo artist?”

I couldn’t help but get a little annoyed at his ignorance. “It’s Blur. B-L-U-R. You should know them, man! They’re only one of the best bands in the world!” Steve just shakes his head, so I keep going, “Oh come on! You know who Damon Albarn is, right? The guy who’s also leading the new Gorillaz international hip-hop supergroup?” Steve shakes his head again. “The guy who sang that atrocious, but nevertheless, incredibly popular song #2 that goes “WooHooo!”?” Steve keeps shaking his head like a bubble head doll. Finally, he says:

“Nope. I’m sorry but it doesn’t ring a bell. Maybe I’ve heard the songs before but I never learned the name of the band. Besides, I’m not a music geek like you are. Don’t get me wrong, man, there’s nothing wrong with having an encyclopedic knowledge in pop music. I mean, I’m a film buff myself. For example, I’ve seen every single movie made by Quentin Tarantino.”

“What are you talking about? Tarantino has only directed like five or six movies--?”

“All right, you know what—forget about music and movies. There’s something more important that I want to ask you. I can see that you’re carrying two tickets with you; I’m dying to know who you’re going with? Anyone I know?”

“Perhaps?” I cross my arms with a smirk in my face, which Steve answers with one of his own, but I don’t think he’s figured out my plan yet. After a couple of seconds, he looks at me trying to inquire what I meant. I finally decide to let it out, “Well, the truth is that I haven’t invited anyone yet.” My good friend seems a bit puzzled now.

“Oh. Well, common sense dictates that if you’re going to invite someone to a concert, you should do the inviting first and then, once you’ve secured an invitation, purchase a ticket, not the other way around. Who’s gonna buy a ticket from you anyway? And just out of curiosity, how much did you have to pay for them?”

“Well, these two tickets were worth 60 dollars a piece. And that’s with tax and all those other convenience charges included. I’m also going to invite someone to come with me, and yes, all expenses covered. It’s going to be my treat!” I really let it sink in whenever I have the rare luxury to brag like the best. I know I just stroke a blow to Steve’s reputation shaped by his unpredictable behavior. In my opinion, it’s all hype.

“So let me get this straight, you paid 120 bucks for a concert that’s taking place in less than two weeks and you’re going to invite just about anybody lucky enough to say yes?”

“Well, not just any-body?”

“Ahhhhhhhhhh. Okay. I see how it is now. I’m sorry man, I’m a bit thrown off because we’ve known each other for two years now and this is the first time I see you do something like this. But I still don’t get it, Javier. What’s the point of buying a ticket before asking a girl out? I mean, I have my own theory, but I’d like to hear the official version first.”

“You have your own theory? No way, I’m dying to hear this theory that you have managed to formulate in such a short period of time. Please, Professor Nietzsche, if you could elaborate on your experimental findings since you obviously know more about my life than me.

“Ha! Well, it’s rather obvious if you ask me. From what I’ve gathered, it seems that you are so shy that at some point you got sick of your own character flaw to the degree where you’re now forcing yourself to ask a girl out to a concert by buying an extra ticket. So am I right or am I right?” I have to give him credit for that, the guy was never an idiot; however, I don’t think I’ll ever understand why a smart guy like him hasn’t been able to get out of this job.  

“You flatter me Steve. Just for the record, I’m not shy. I’m not insecure either. Ok, maybe I am a little tiny bit insecure. The problem is that I always wanted to play my deck straight, y’know.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t get the poker metaphor.”

“Ok, let me be blunt and honest with you. I simply felt it was about time I grew a pair of balls and do something for myself instead of pissing away the best years of my life. Is that straight-forward enough for you?”

“Hey, don’t let me stop you man. Hardcore and all that. But listen, if you’ve got both your tickets with you, my guess is that you’re planning on inviting one of our fellow coworkers tonight? Anyone in mind?”

“Nah. It could be anybody. As long as I have someone to come along with me, I’m more than happy.”

“Hmmm. Let us do a little roll call then. What about Kelly?

“Kelly? Are you kidding. I know his boyfriend. You know him, right? Andy? Big guy, six feet two. Works as a bouncer. Forget it, he never lets her out of his sight. Besides, she’s really not as nice and innocent and she appears to be.”

“Okay. What about Claudia?”

“Nah. Too old for me.”

“What about the other Kelly?”

“There’s another Kelly?”

“Yeah, Kelly Whitmore? She works in the gardening department?

“Oh yeah, right. I know who you’re talking about.” I think about it for a couple of seconds and I quickly come up with a decision, “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Geez, I’m sorry man, I forgot Brad Pitt was working the register now.”

“Hey, why don’t you let me borrow Laura for a night?”

“Don’t make me laugh, asshole. I’ve only been going out with her for two weeks. Listen, it took me nine freaking months to find a new girl. It’s getting more and more difficult for people my age to find someone available, awright? It’s like everyone’s in a fucking rush to get married.”

“Nine months, uh? So you waited so long that you got desperate and eventually gave birth to your own girlfriend.” But before he can give me one of his witty comebacks, I quickly point to the young lady chatting on her cell phone at the customer service booth. “What about Michelle? You think she’d be interested?”

“A-ha! You did have someone in mind, you lying rat!”

“Pfft. I don’t know what you’re talking about. So, what do you know about her?”

“Not much. I’ve never had to work in the same shift as her, but…she doesn’t seem all that bad. All I can tell you is that if you’re going to ask her out, it has to be tonight, because I do know that tonight happens to be her last day working here. How’s that for motivation?” As we try to get a good luck at Michelle, we get startled by a loud claxon noise. A pick up truck pulls up near the entrance door. “All right Javier, I’m outta here. Let me know how it all works out and also, MAKE-SURE-YOU-TALK-TO-HER. Nothing will come of Nothing.”

“Nothing will come of…? Isn’t that Henry V?

“Nope. It’s actually King Lear.

“Oh yeah. I had no idea you knew anything about drama.”

“Shows how little you know me. I’m probably the only person on Earth who quotes Shakespeare as a form of therapy. It really helps and it doesn’t hurt that the quotes make me sound more intelligent.” Once again, the pick up truck parked outside makes another loud claxon noise. “Jesus! Guess I better go. Hey Javier, I can’t wait till I see your disappointed ass tomorrow!”

“Yeah, keep laughing man! Just give me ten minutes, man! Ten Minutes!”

Steve starts running towards the exit and into the heavy rain. I turn around and I can’t help but find it odd that I haven’t had to ring up a single customer since I began my conversation with Steve. No manager has bothered me either. Maybe this’ll be my lucky night. I glance at Michelle who’s still chatting on her cell phone. Yeah, right. Ten minutes. Bah! All I need is five minutes and then today will never become tomorrow again.

Monday, 9:08 pm: This is getting truly pathetic. If I’m going to make a move, it has to be now or never! What the hell went wrong!? It’s been almost five hours since that asshole Steve left and I still have my two concert tickets inside my pocket. I haven’t even asked a single person yet, never mind Michelle who’s been occupied with customers the whole freaking night, ever since it stopped raining at 5:30. I mean yeah, I had a couple of clear opportunities to approach Michelle, but for whatever reason I couldn’t gather up the courage to do my pitch. But all the blame can’t be laid on me because every time I decide to finally make a move, either the fucking phone rings or I have to check out one of these dumbass losers. I don’t get it! I thought it was going to rain all night long, but once it cleared up, the Home Depot got invaded by the redneck army of customers that we get only on weekends. What is this? Is there another goddamn hurricane Rita coming back to hit us next week? From what circle of hell did all these fucking people come from? What the fuck is wrong with me!?

            “Hey, Javier!” That’s great. It’s my manager Bob, what the fuck does this hillbilly piece of shit want now? “Are you ready for me to count your bank? I bet you’re ready to go home.”

            “Hey, I was born ready, Bob.” Yeah, I was born ready, unlike you Bob, you disgusting piece of scum who has no future whatsoever. Shit! What the hell am I thinking!? Bob’s always been one of the nicest and most decent managers in this place. I gotta get it together. I mean, is not going to be the end of the world if I can’t get to Michelle in time. No wait! This is my last chance to ask Michelle. It’s her last day, remember? And to make things worse, she should be clocking out any minute now! Bob sure is taking his time getting everything together. Dammit! Open your mouth hole say something. “Hey, Bob? I’m gonna catch up with you at the office later. I have to check something with Michelle.”

            “Ok Javier, but don’t take long, all right.”

            I only nod my head and I start moving towards the Customer Service booth. Shit! My mind is a blank! Wait, what was my opening line that I spent the whole evening mentally rehearsing?  Something about, umm, something about the weather. No, that’s not it. Okay concentrate. What. Is. My. Line.

            “Excuse me, sir?”

            Oh fuck! It’s a nice old lady! Even God is throwing obstacles at me. It cannot get more cliché than the nice old lady. It pisses me off so much. “Yes sir! What can I service be of you? I mean, How kind service—I mean…” Smile. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

            “Well, I was wondering if you knew where--?

            “You need to locate an item of some sort? Sorry, it’s my first day here, and to tell you the truth I have no idea where anything is, but I can still help you out. Hey, Bob! Customer has a manager question for you!” I direct her towards Bob who’s still at my register position. With the nice old lady out of the way, the field is wide open. Ok. Opening line. Breathe. Exhale. Ok, I think got it! Awesome! Now what kind of accent was I going to be using for this line: the Spaniard? The French? The Liverpool? That’s right, The Beatles accent! How it goes again? 

            “I know we never have a chance to talk, but I was wondering if you could do me a big, big, big favor, umm…” Ok, that’ll do.

            “Hey, Javier!” I’m beginning to feel a brain tumor growing. I turn around and I smile.

            “Yes, Bob! You got the credit card batch! Excellent!”

            “I’m ready to go into the office! Are you coming or what?”

            “All right, Bob! Just spare me a minute, all right? I’ll catch up with you!”

            Good. I am finally at the Customer Service booth and she seems to be writing down something in the log book. She hasn’t noticed me yet, so that’s a great start. Now, I gotta pretend that I’m not interested in her. I am minding my own business. Yes, I am looking for some pencils. I am looking for some documents. Geez, it sure is dusty in here—all right, enough of this nonsense. Nothing will come of nothing! Say the words and Nike Just Do It!!

            “I—

            “Excuse me…?” Nice old lady!!!???? Why!!!!????

            Michelle lifts her head and turns her attention to the customer. “Yes ma’am?”

            “I was wondering if you knew the price for the silver bathroom hooks?”

            “Off the top of my head, I don’t know. I’ll have to check the computer.” She turns around and she spots me standing just behind her. “Oh! You almost scared me. Hey, you’re the cashier right? You wouldn’t happen to know the price of these silver hooks?”

            “Uh. Dey’re thr fift apies.”

            “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

            “They’re, um, they’re three fifty a piece.”

            The old lady replies, “Thank you very much.” I’m shocked that she walks away without delighting us with an anecdote of her youth and how it somehow relates to bathtub silver hooks. Michelle goes back to her log book without a word of thanks. I look around and I see no managers or customers in sight. I should do it right now. All I have to do is think Paul McCartney, open my mouth, deliver my opening line and let the rest work itself out.

            I walk away.

            I’m at the office with Bob counting the money. Well, he’s counting the money. I just sit on my chair with a blank stare and my mouth half open. Michelle clocked out five minutes ago and all the other employees wished her the best. I blew it, and I only have myself to blame. Not the customers, not the managers, not Bob. Nothing came out of nothing and I am the only one responsible for my failure.

            “I knew him Horatio…”

            “I’m sorry, what was that?” Bob looks at me. “Hey, are you all right? You look a bit down.” I’m so ashamed I don’t even have the words to answer. “Hey, don’t sweat it, Javier. We get days like these once in awhile.”

I lift my head, and then I lean back on my chair, crossing my arms. “Yeah. I thought I was losing it back there. I don’t know Bob, I thought today was...how should I put it…”

We think about it for a few seconds and then he shrugs his shoulders says, “Different?”

“Umm. Yes. That’s exactly right. Different.”

“Did you shave before coming to work?”

“Of course I did, man!” And then I start laughing uncontrollably while Bob shakes his head and goes back to counting the money.

Fin.

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