Chapter Three

"That will be seven dollars, sir." I told the recent customer who bought a double scone chocolate chip ice cream. He was a regular here who stopped by at least twice a week. His obsession for ice cream was over the top if you asked me but then without people like him, the shop wouldn't run and I wouldn't get paid, so, please eat all the ice cream available sir. He surprisingly handed over a twenty dollar bill to me and asked me to keep the change. I grinned and appreciated his overly generous tip which was way higher than what he actually spent on his dessert. He commented on how jovial I always seemed to be everyday and how much he admired my bubbly persona.

"Sam, I need your help out here." Rose, my coworker of Pakistani-Italian origin, called out to me. I excused myself to help her, getting out of the shuttle bus to meet her where she stood trying to wipe off some ice cream from her uniform with a paper towel. The scene before me was so hilarious, I nearly laughed out loud but I knew I'd be making jest of her that way so I refrained. Instead, I asked what she needed my assistance in.

"I want us to switch. You take the customers' orders and serve them while I stay in the bus to prepare their orders. Please can you do that for me?" She begged like she was tired of life entirely, not just serving ice cream. We were the only workers operating in this shop and basically switched work positions weekly; while she worked in the bus, preparing orders, I received the orders and served our customers and vice versa. Whoever was situated in the bus was expected to handle payment transactions. That way, the one serving didn't get distracted with so much work. Though I loved the weeks I worked in the bus, placing different flavours of ice cream in cups, wafer cones and fancy plates, I preferred the duty of going around getting orders. The latter was more strenuous but I got to converse with our customers and got to build affinity with them. I was able to memorize many customers' favorite flavours and got larger tips through this means. My job as an ice cream seller at age 32 was technically supposed to be one to embarrass or mock me over how less I had achieved as an adult woman, nevertheless, I ensured I worried less and gave gratitude more. After all, a numerous amount of others in my age grade lived far worse lives. Some had already died! However, I was fortunate enough to be alive and fulfilled a few of my dreams. That was worth rejoicing over, right?

"Okay Rose. Here, take my apron and let me have the ordering notepad." we exchanged these items with her showing appreciation for agreeing to switch duties.

"I wonder why Mr sexy chocolate Chip Ice Cream hasn't popped by today. He's usually here by this time and always taking a seat over there." She pointed ahead of us to a couple of chairs located by the extreme left of the shop. I was well aware of the particular customer she referred to.

"Who are you talking about?" I enquired, feigning ignorance.

"Ah! Don't play coy with me. I'm certain you know Mr African butter, that fine as hell black man who always visits us every evening by 5pm and sits right over there in his fancy clothes." by eavesdropping on our interaction, one would think she was obsessed with this guy but for real, who wouldn't? I wasn't oblivious to the charm of the mystery man who frequently visited at the exact time Rose stated. He would sit for about an hour, order absolutely nothing and leave, often dropping insanely large tips at his exit. I lived for the days he would visit so I could get nothing less than a hundred dollars for basically doing nothing for him. A man like that was without a doubt rich. Sometimes I felt he looked familiar, like the weird guy at the train station, but I wasn't certain about that.

In fact, you could smell affluence in the clothes he wore, how neat, expensive and fancy looking they were. Regardless, I had never seen him in nothing but a suit in all his five visits to the shop. Oh yes, I counted, don't sue me!

"Yeah, I wonder why he isn't here today. Maybe he got caught up with work and wouldn't be coming over today." I replied, acting uninterested.

"Or maybe he lost his wrist watch or something and has no idea it's time to come visit us. Maybe when he realizes that, he'll visit us no matter how late." her more than hopeful, nearly obsessed, explanation made no sense but I shrugged, agreeing irregardless.

"Oh stop acting like you're not affected by him. I see you staring at him way too many times. Interestingly, I see him stare right back at you. Hey! Do not deny the sparks I can see flying between you two." Her last sentence came right as I was about deny her allegations. I rolled my eyes at her and kept quiet.

"Wait..." She paused, a look on her face I could already recognize despite only working here a couple weeks. "What if you—" I cut her off before she could complete her all too familiar question.

"No, I refuse to flirt with him." I answered defiantly, satisfied to see the shocked expression on her face. Folding my arms, I waited for her to find her voice again amid the shock that I predicted her intention.

"But why not? He's really handsome, young, fancy looking, handsome... Oh wait, I already said handsome. Who would blame me though, that man is hot! As in please-kiss-me-I'm-all-yours kinda hot." She fanned her cheeks, cooing over someone she barely knew. Who was I deceiving? The man looked super hot, like the true peanut butter finger-licking hotness. Oh snap, my thoughts were running wild. I had to stop myself from sounding as obsessed as Rose.

"But he's not so tall. I mean I'm a few inches taller than him, don't you think that will be weird?" I voiced my crazy concern. That was the only lame escape argument I could device. I only hoped she agreed with me.

"Come here, let me feel your temperature." just like that, she dragged me closer to her and pressed the back of her palm to my forehead and then my neck, trying to detect my temperature.

"You seem fine to me so I don't know where that nonsense talk is coming from. You're five feet eleven inches making you about two inches taller than him. Screw those two inches girl! That man is too gorgeous to give up on just because of those two tiny inches. Babe, you gotta look past that and go flirt with that hot African sweetness." I laughed at how much she was mesmerized by him and all the funny terms of endearment she used in describing him.

"If you like him this much, why don't you flirt with him instead? Why pass off this opportunity?" I asked the million dollar question. I was surprised however, when she opened her mouth, ready to respond.

"Believe me I would have, the very first time he came here. But I have a feeling he likes you more and I don't go after guys who have eyes for someone else. I like to have their complete attention." she smacked her lips and twirled some strands of her hair with her index finger. I made no move to answer further, obviously deep in thought. The sound of going over to a guy to flirt with him sounded appealing asides the fact that I sucked at that. Just as I was about to tell her how bad I was at flirting, she spoke again.

"You know what? Let's make a deal, it's already 7pm," she confirmed via the sparkly but I'm guessing, fake gold wristwatch on her wrist, "which means he is unlikely to come again tonight. But if he still makes it here tonight, then you'll have to flirt with him and possibly ask him out on a date. But if he doesn't show up tonight, then we'll both take it as a sign that you shouldn't go after him. What do you say to this?"

I chewed on what she said to figure out if agreeing would be right or wrong. On the brighter side, there was no harm in talking to him and perhaps building a bond even as minuscule as a customer and employee relationship. Moreover, if he didn't show up, then maybe he was just meant to be a stranger to me. The deal seemed fair and square.

"All right, I agree but if he doesn't come, promise me you won't bug me into this again." I replied because I knew Rose was a woman capable of making people do whatever she wanted.

"You have my word." she squealed when I nodded in concession. Just then our boss drove by on his motorcycle and barked,

"Hey, I don't pay you girls to stand and gossip all day long. Get to work!"

"Yes, boss!" we chorused, disappearing to continue the evening's tasks.

**********

Three hours later and no sign of 'Mr African sweetness', I stuck my tongue out at Rose from the corner I stood, clearing up the trash. It was time for us to close and go home for the night.

"Guess backing off of your crazy plan is the sign, huh?" I teased her, showcasing a smirk, over how her plans to hook me up with the strange hot dude failed woefully.

"Whatever! Maybe I'll just ask him out myself when next he comes over." She teased right back, feeling proud of her decision while she locked the bus with its customized keys.

"Good luck with that." I countered, heading towards the trash can at the back of the bus. Thank God he didn't show up, I wouldn't have known what to do if he did. I scrunched my nose over the foul smell emanating from the trash can as I opened it to quickly toss the dirt I had packed into it and flung it shut immediately. I heaved in fresh air after leaving that position to walk back to the shop so Rose and I could head home. Coincidentally, we lived just a few blocks from each other so we often came to the shop and left together.

When I got back to the front of the shuttle bus, I found Rose talking to someone, and obviously flustered I could tell by the way she stuttered. Who was capable of making my coquettish coworker and new bestie, all mushy and weird? I got my answer as I stared face to face with Mr Sexy Chocolate Chip Ice Cream himself. Damn! The guy was all shades of hotness. I had to breathe through my mouth to calm myself.

"Oh, there she is. Sam, look who stopped by.... eventually?" she said the last word in a whisper so only I could hear. I nodded, still transfixed and drawn to this hot piece of cake. I really had to stop with all the names my brain kept formulating and concentrate on speaking—comprehensively—with him.

"Hello, I'm sorry but we're closed for today." I announced at last, proud of myself for conjuring up the right words.

"Yeah, I know. I would have been here earlier but I got a little busy today." Oh his voice truly sounded like peanut butter finger-licking goodness. Concentrate Samira, please concentrate! The words from my subconscious snapped me back to reality. I glanced at Rose, she had the same look of awe on her face. We both had to snap out of this before we made a fool of ourselves.

"Then I guess you should leave and come back some other time, okay? We're closed." 'closed' was the only word that kept popping into my head. It was a great word, wasn't it? We're closed sir, you can't come into our heads and turn our senses into romantic goo. We're stronger than that!

"Oh, okay. I guess I'll come another time." no no no, sir please wait and turn our senses to romantic goo more and more! We love your face! We love your voice!! We love you!!! My goodness, I was surely losing my mind!

"NO!" Rose shouted, and realizing she did, blushed and spoke in softer tones, "Please can you see my friend off? It's pretty late and she has to go home all by herself."

"No, I don't have to! We're going home together, right? That's what we do every day." I snapped, turning to her and wondering what she was up to.

"Well, tonight we aren't because I uh, I have a meeting with the Vet to get some dog medicine for my uh, my cat." What? Dog medicine for her cat?

"You don't even have a pet!" I commented through gritted teeth, on the verge of losing my mind.

"That's not the point. The point is I won't be going home with you so let him accompany you, okay? The streets are dark, imagine what those good for nothing street boys might do to you if you were alone, huh? Okay bye." She left so fast, I barely saw her shadow. It suddenly dawned on me her motive for running away and leaving us both alone. She wanted me to keep my end of our bargain to flirt with him. I face palmed and sighed, completely at a loss for words.

"Well, I guess it's just us two." My newest partner for the night's walk home, stated behind me. I sighed again and nodded.

"C'mon let's go. I don't bite!" He said again and I turned around, facing him, not knowing what to say.

You won't bite me but once you hear how ridiculous I am at flirting with you tonight, you'd certainly wish you could chop my head off.