Dimensia Page 7

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  Everyone has questions, but answers are more rare. Which brings me to my next point: why can't things be simpler? Why do we need all the answers? As rational beings, we believe that our way of thinking is right, which makes yours obviously wrong. It's a disease known as IRYW (I'm right you're wrong). Allow me to go as far as to say there is nothing to fear, only to be understood. Naturally, it is human to be human, but we can try. In fact, some of the best things in life are right in front of us, but many times we are too blind or caught up with the idea of life, to live. No fault to the old way of thinking but look where it's brought us. Do we go right or wrong? I mean left. (Smile.)

  At this point in time, I was about to graduate and had decided on my College of choice. Ironically, it just so happened to be in the same town where the laboratory for the dimension research is located.

  The day after graduation I packed my humble possessions and made the enticing drive to my new home, the college town of Columbia, Mo. I was ecstatic to start a new life for myself with no family drama, baggage, or history to drag me down.

  The first task at hand was to find a job. I applied for a few jobs at local restaurants and retail stores in nearby fashion malls. I received a couple interviews, but found I was not refined enough for the department stores and as far as the restaurants I simply lacked experience. Just a minor set back in the big scheme of things I reassured myself. I knew that it wasn't going to be easy. Luckily I had saved enough money to afford a couple months of expenses.

  I squared a place, but the apartment building was not the Ritz by any means but a more practical situation. In fact, the place seemed to have a life of its own. I tried not to focus on the living conditions, but thought of the building as just a roof over my head. It was an old building, with brickwork on the outside and vines growing vertically up the exterior walls. The building was in desperate need of restoration. My apartment was located on the second floor of the twenty-four unit building.

  Beginning to settle in, I discovered that across the hall from my apartment was some talent. AKA, a very attractive girl, of which, I admired with quite attention; every time I saw her however, I avoided her. I guess I was a tad intimidated, and didn't feel that I was good enough. She was beautiful this girl, as pretty of a peach pie that ever went on a hayride. She had long golden-brown hair, deliciously slender, smelled like roses, and always dressed really cute. Heck, she even walked pretty. Each encounter I had with her, she had a smile on her face, which was what I liked most about her. The problem here was her roommate. Not a girl, but a dude. He was slightly older, good looking, a successful-looking kind of guy. Generally other dudes didn't intimidate me, but he was better looking than me. And I didn't really have much to offer in the means of finances. Truthfully, I would have been lucky to take her to McDonalds and order off the dollar menu at this point in my life. I'm sure that would impress any girl on a first date.

  What I have come to learn to love about life is that it has a funny way of making us face our fears. One day, sitting in my apartment, I heard a knock at the door. One must understand that I didn't know anyone that lived nearby, or anyone that would just drop by. As I stood up and slowly approached the door, I heard the knock again, which jarred me. I thought to act like I wasn't home. Then I heard a girl's voice humming a sweet melody to a song. I continued toward the door, and looked through the peephole. To my dismay, it was the girl from across the hall. Dazed and falling into a trance, I found myself drawing blanks, in a blank stare. She, wearing a pair of pink sweat shorts and a white tank top, turned to walk back toward her apartment. My inner voice screamed, 'open the door.' Absent of thinking, I quickly turned the handle to open the door. Upon opening the door, I felt a sudden vacuum of wind as she turned in slow motion, as if freeze-framed, revealing her beautiful smile. I saw rays from the sun beaming from her eyes and her hair shined as it glided through the air. My mouth salivated and my stomach took a nose-dive.

  "Hello neighbor, I'm Comfort. I live across the hall," releasing an endearing smile that streaked across the stars. I blankly stared into her sweet and trusting eyes, absorbing her essence. My mind flashed, 'is it possible that she knew? I mean, how could she?' To be honest, how could she not? It was game time, now or never. Being the cool guy I am, I gawked as if I had never seen a girl before in my life.

  "Hello?" she repeated, with my mouth agape, I had nothing to say. I might as well have been standing naked in front of her. I had waited for this opportunity and had everything planned out in my head. I had even rehearsed in front of the mirror, but all of a sudden, nothing. No funny jokes or pick up lines, just me standing drawing blanks, looking ridiculous yet-again. I reached out with my right hand to introduce myself.

  "Fisher, it's nice to meet you." as my voice betrayed an undercurrent of fascination, she extended her right hand and with a tender touch, she maintained an unexpected firm handshake that was fragile, but strong. Her delicate hand felt soft and smooth. She had such grace and true natural beauty.

  "Is there something you want me," I asked, then retracted, embarrassed.

  "I mean, you want from me?" My inner voice speaking, loud and clear: 'idiot. Now she's thinking you're the biggest pervert in the building.'

  "Yes I do," she replied with a spirit of spontaneity, revealing a hypnotic smile, eyes sparkling full blast, running her fingers through the tips of her hair.

  "I mean, can I borrow a cup of sugar?" As she raised her brows, we both smiled, amused at the awkwardness of the encounter. I had hoped to mask my attraction as I opened the door to invite her in. It was definitely my lucky day. I had just recently gone to the local corner store to pick up a few groceries, one of the items being sugar. As we entered my studio apartment, I saw her scan the bare room, with my bed being one of the few things unpacked.

  "How long have you been living here?" she asked with a look of uncertainty inhabiting her face.

  "A couple weeks," I replied embarrassed, followed by an overwhelming sigh,

  "Men," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes, causing me to laugh. Uncomfortable, I would dare say, awkward. Impulse reaction, I asked the first thing that popped into my head.

  "What is the beginning if not the end?"

  "I don't know?" she replied hesitant, I smiled, trying to time my delivery.

  "Right now," I replied confident with a grin, but she said nothing. Waiting, watching, seconds developed in the form of hours. My heart echoed in my ears, my legs became stiff,

  "I like that," she replied. Finally. Something likeable and rather smooth if I say so myself. We stood staring at one another, and I couldn't help but smile. I couldn't help but stare. I couldn't help but stare and smile. She was truly a breath of fresh air, definitely something special. The kind of special any guy in this world would love to have just an afternoon with and could die a happy man. Call me a dreamer, but take my word, she was electric. Snapping out of my daydream and back to virtual reality I headed toward the cabinet where I had placed the sugar and grabbed a small plastic container to put the contents in. She struck up conversation with questions about where I was from, and what I was doing in Columbia. Not my particular topic of interest, but I hadn't been quick enough with my draw. So now, I had to explain my life story, waiting for her to get bored and leave. Surprisingly, she didn't.

  "Who's the guy you live with?" I asked out of left field.

  "Oh," as she smiled,

  "Him, why, are you jealous-zealous?" as she stared, as if right through me, as if I were a volume of air, curling a loose strand of hair behind her ear, twisting her foot at the ankle against the floor, her cheeks turning rosy pink.

  "That's my-uh," another brief pause,

  "Brother," followed with a grin. Cue music! Instantly, I could hear a drowning choir of angels singing, accompanied by an orchestra as a feeling of excitement rushed through my veins. Nirvana, I
was in heaven. Had to be, she was definitely an angel. It was slowly starting to make sense. Back to Earth, I casually asked,

  "Are you good with organizing stuff?" She laughed, scanning the room, leading with her eyes.

  "Like your apartment?" As she let out an overwhelming sigh. I observed nothing but a bed, a computer, and a pile of dirty clothes that had been taking turns being worn for the sake of unpacking. Oh, and boxes, boxes everywhere. Waiting for them to unpack themselves, which can happen.

  "Yeah," I replied with a sympathetic tone in my voice.

  "I could sure use some help. If you're up for the daunting task, I could make it up to you by . . . dinner." I cringed.

  "Dinner huh? Like a date," she asked crunchy, smiling suspiciously.

  "No, definitely no, like friends," for fear of rejection.

  "So not a date?" she repeated, narrowing her eyes.

  "No," shuttering, disgusted face, as she grabbed the sugar off the counter, and turned to walk towards the door.

  "That's too bad. I haven't been on a date in a while, and I'm interested in the experience." As she stopped at the door, turned towards me, narrowing her eyes,

  "Are you gay?" she asked sideways to Saturday, with a serious look etched on her face. The choir of angels I heard singing in perfect unison, came crashing to a screeching halt. I swallowed hard and leaned towards the counter, but felt nothing there to brace me. I found myself falling to the ground. As I opened my eyes, I saw Comfort rushing towards me, with a look of fright on her face.

  "Are you okay?" she asked sympathetically. I looked up and realized how ridiculous I must look,

  "I meant to do that." I said with a charismatic grin as she burst into laughter. I struggled to stand, rubbing my elbow I had hurt in the process, legitimately embarrassed and pink with pride. She was now laughing at the situation and I, as usual, was the object of the joke. She apologized and shielded her grin with her hand, trying to contain her laughter. She then, grabbed a chair from across the room and placed it in front of me to sit on and regain my composure. Accepting the gesture, I took a brief moment to gather my thoughts.

  "Where were we? Oh yes, gay. Am I gay? No. Not that I have a problem with people that are gay. Actually, I might be? Maybe I just haven't met the right guy?" I expressed, hoping to come across charming. Also thinking, her brother might be gay, and the only reason she came over was to see if I was, hoping to hook us up. A shag. Like a fag hag; except a sister hag. It all made sense. The sugar was a secondary goal, the question the primary. Hello. How ridiculous I must look for trying to get her to go on a date with me. There's no way she would ever go for a guy like me.' As she saw the wheels turning she asked,

  "Did you think that was a real question? I was kidding. You can tell you're not gay by your place." she said, with a grin, scanning the room, showing a distasteful expression. Cue music! I was still thinking, however optimistically, that I might have a chance with her.

  "What time should I be here to help tomorrow?" she asked, apparently unenthused and overwhelmed.

  "When's good for you?" I asked with a smile.

  "Let's do ten'ish," she voiced,

  "Great, it's a date!" I said ecstatically,

  "I mean, ten'ish is perfect." I left her with a friendly smile as she grabbed the sugar off the counter and made her way towards the door to exit. Just prior to leaving she spun around.

  "Be careful, I wouldn't want you getting hurt," reaching for the doorknob, closing the door behind her.

  I was beside myself as you might or might not have gathered. My world didn't make sense. The simple fact, I had lived there a couple of weeks and every which way I had turned had been a dead end. Finally, something good was happening. Even if we were just friends, that would have been enough for me. I could use a positive person like her around. Comfort, even her name was angelic. As I stood up out of the chair, I tried, but couldn't stop thinking about her.

  The rest of the day felt extremely long and drawn out, mainly because I was amped up. I couldn't wait for tomorrow. This night was restless, no thanks to my vivid imagination. Imagining, what if this or what if that? If it seemed remotely possible, I thought it. Being the hopeless romantic I am, I saw myself and Comfort running through a field of marigolds; cheesy-sleezy-japaneezy, right? I also saw Comfort and myself getting married, growing old together. What can I say? I wear my heart on my sleeve. It's the only way I know how to live. Soon after, I fell fast asleep.

  The next day, I woke feeling rested, alive, and actually looked up at the sky. I put on some of the freshest smelling of my recycled clothes and took a walk to the local coffee house to grab a coffee. En route, it felt like I was in a cartoon. I couldn't help but notice all the beautiful things and happy people along the way. I encountered a lady who had been walking her dog. I grinned and graciously said hello as she reciprocated. The trees were perfect in size and color. The birds chirped in perfect harmony, and the people I passed were all friendly. I thought to myself, 'why had I not drawn this conclusion before?' My great realization: I was in a happy mood. I realized, when I'm happy, everyone I come in contact with is as well. It would seem that what you put out is what you get. All extremes accomplish similar ends. Strange, corny, but true. I was on top of the snow globe.

  As I arrived to my destination, I was up to order and ordered as I did every day, regular coffee, leave room for cream. The girl working at the coffee house, behind the counter remembered my name. She actually remembered my name. I thought that was pretty awesome. I then walked and patiently waited for my coffee in the designated area, deciding to kickback and drown some time. Understand it was still early, barely eight-thirty. Outside, after receiving my coffee, I grabbed a seat at an empty table with other coffee customers, enjoying, observing life. As time often does, when I looked down at my phone, which I had placed on the table, I realized it was game time. In what felt like minutes, an hour had passed. I packed my belongings and began walking home, hoping to avoid being late.

  Arriving at my place, I walked up the stairs to the second floor, and entered my empty apartment. As I sat down with my belongings, I started to sift through the piles of boxes, realizing there was a great deal of work ahead. Moments later, I heard a knock at the door. Setting down the box I had been carrying, I checked the peephole to make sure it was Comfort, and opened the door to greet her. Standing in front of me, freshly showered, hair still wet, she smiled as she breezed by, entering my apartment.

  "All right cowboy, lets get this rodeo over with," she voiced, releasing an overwhelming sigh. Amused, I laughed and closed the door.

  We unpacked and unpacked some more as time flew by. The next thing I knew, it was dark. The day had swept by, and felt little like work, and more like fun. This day, I learned a lot about Comfort and a little about myself. The next few days we worked nonstop to get everything unpacked and organized. As far as I could tell, Comfort was perfect. While unpacking, in conversation, she mentioned that she had aspirations of someday moving to California and becoming a singer. I would normally doubt someone with such ambitions, but for some reason I believed her. What's even weirder is that I wanted it for her. If it was left up to me, she deserved nothing but the best. Above all, she deserved to be happy.

  I then expressed my interest in dimensions, and how I wanted to someday understand them. I waited for her to criticize, or tell me how big of a dork I was for wanting to learn about dimensions, but she didn't. She simply smiled.

  "That's cool," she added. Whether or not she thought it was, I can't say. But I felt satisfied that she did approve.

  On the final day of unpacking, Comfort mentioned that she worked part-time at a restaurant down the road as a hostess, and recalled over hearing that they were looking to hire front of the house staff.

  "Its nothing fancy, more like a college pizza joint," she said. Nonetheless, it felt promisin
g, and I thanked her for the sound bite.

  "Would you put in a good word for me? You know, since we have known each other a total of four days," I asked, as she grinned.

  "Sure," as we laughed.

  After we finished unpacking the remaining few boxes, the phone rang. It was my Mom with her impeccable timing. I tried to pry myself off the phone, but she kept rambling on and on about how my sister had gotten first place in the county fair dance competition. I was happy for my sis, but I found myself drifting from the conversation. I stared at Comfort, arranging items, her presence demanding my attention. Lost in conversation, I interrupted my Mother who had been rambling about something or other, and asked that she call me later. Thankfully, she agreed. After successfully dodging a bullet, I apologized to Comfort for the distraction.

  "Could we maybe have dinner this weekend?" I asked.

  "That would be cool, but Friday and Saturday night I work. I can pencil you in on Sunday."

  "Sold. Sunday it is. You see, I don't discriminate between the different days of the week." I replied, enthusiastic,

  "I'll see you Sunday, if not before." Comfort said, with a wink.

  "Sometimes I get bored in my apartment, and I might just check up on you," with her deliverance, narrowed her eyes.

  "Are you sure you're not half Asian?" I asked.

  "No why?" she responded inquisitively.

  "Your hard squints, that's why. You can drop by anytime," I said, as Comfort grinned, turned to exit.

  Alone, I looked around my newly transformed room, which was to the extent of night and day. I couldn't believe how cool my apartment looked. It actually looked pretty swank with my humble possessions. Walking to my computer, I turned on some music (Kings of Convenience) and proceeded to my bed, falling with my arms outstretched, face first into my pillows, exhausted from working for four days straight.

  The next thing I know, I'm standing in front of the Dimensia lab. Finding such peculiar, iridescent arrows emerged, in a path leading to the door? Frozen in place, a husky voice filled my mind, commanding me to proceed. I slowly approached the door, tried to open it, but it was locked. 'In your pocket,' the authoritative voice suggested. As I reached into my pocket, I felt the form of a key. Retrieving the key, I realized it was a bump key. I inserted the key into the keyhole, tried to turn the key, but yielded no reaction. Magically, a Stanley hammer fell from the sky, landing at my feet. I scanned the immediate area, but no one was around for miles. What? I mean, why? Something was guiding me, helping me, as I bent down to grab the hammer, grasped the handle, and with a little tap action, the door became unlocked. As I entered the lab I felt a melting sensation, as if my legs were merging with the ground. I looked down, visualizing my feet beginning to disappear, then my legs. Mid-stride, I extended my hands as they too began to diminish; within seconds my entire body had dissipated. Weird but invisible, I proceeded to enter the unknown. Inside, seeing all of the scientific equipment, a voice suggested the events that proceeded. Despite my resistance, the voice assured me that all would end well. So, I stole everything and brought it back to my place. I can't say how I managed to get all the Lab equipment back to my place, as quickly as I subdued - it was done. I then walked around town invisibly for the remainder of the night.

  Waking in a cold sweat; what, madness! Rising up in bed, I scanned the room and quickly understood everything was as it should have been. Thankfully, it was nothing more than a dream. I couldn't make much sense of it at the time, and still can't. Although there are those that say our dreams have meanings, subconsciously, unconsciously, especially the ones we remember. Deciding not to dwell much on the dream, I went back to sleep once I shifted into night mode, having taken off my clothes.

  I awoke the next morning to yet another magnificent day. The objective for the day was to apply at the pizza joint, as well as swoop up a few miscellaneous items at the store. After a quick shower, followed with my other morning rituals, it wasn't long until I was en route to the pizza joint. Soon after, I entered the establishment and was greeted by a hostess.

  "Could I speak with the manager?" I asked, as she smiled.

  "Sure," she replied enthusiastically, walking away only to return moments later.

  "It will be a couple minutes, if you could have a seat and wait that would be cool," gesturing to an empty booth near the front of the restaurant. I grinned and proceeded toward the empty booth where I sat and patiently waited. Observing the restaurant, it had a lot of charm and character. Along the walls hung wild game mounts and antique decor. Old school advertisements, and some old black and white photos of random places and people, some of which I assumed to date back to the 1800's. The carpet at my feet was red in color, old and shag. The walls were a bright orange and the lights in the place were set low, setting a mood of relaxation. The place overall had a mellow vibe and seemed like a pretty cool kickback, much less a job. Minutes later, I saw a gray-headed, older, Italian guy wearing a chef apron exit the kitchen. In his approach he smiled and introduced himself. I stood to shake his hand and introduced myself as he grabbed the empty seat in the booth across from me where he began to scan my resume. After a few seconds he looked up at me,

  "When can you start?" he asked, unable to overlook his strong Brooklyn accent. Caught off guard, expecting some kind of formal interview, my voice had escaped me; he began to clear his throat,

  "When can you start? If you're deaf boy, we might have a problem with you waiting tables." I laughed, assuming he was making a joke.

  "Right now." I replied enthusiastically.

  "Good." he smiled, extending a menu,

  "We open at ten, learn quick." Dumbfounded, flabbergasted, I couldn't believe what had just taken place. I got a job, and it was that easy. All this time I had been worried about finding work. Things were really beginning to look up. Sitting in the booth, I began scanning the menu, which was pretty basic Italian cuisine. I wasn't too worried about what kind of toppings guests wanted on their pizza or having to explain the difference between alfredo and marinara.

  Before I knew it, ten o'clock had rolled around, and the place was open. The chef came to the front of the restaurant and handed me an apron, a notebook and a tee shirt. I grabbed the uniform and proceeded to the restroom to change as other servers entered through a backdoor of the restaurant. I waited briefly to introduce myself as they blew right by. 'Its okay,' I thought, 'this is how they treat new people. I can deal,' and continued to the restroom to get ready for my first day of work. After getting laced up, I returned to the lobby and grabbed a booth where the other servers were congregating near the rear of the restaurant. Each took turns introducing themselves and made small talk, as did I. The other severs weren't overly friendly, but weren't rude either. After a few casual introductions, the first table arrived. I felt nervous, but tried to conceal it.

  Patron after patron ordered pizza, pasta, breadsticks; italiano. Before I could check my watch, the lunch rush was over. For the most part, my first day was near okay. Naturally, there were a couple of mistakes on my behalf: the guy that ordered no mushrooms, the girl that ordered hand tossed, not a tossed salad. I'm human, but luckily the patrons were patient and understanding. I mean it's not like I scolded them with hot water or anything. So, I gave myself a C+. Tired and ready to go, I asked a fellow server,

  "What needs to be done before we are allowed to go home for the day?"

  "There's a chart in the back of the ally, near the managers' office, posted on the wall that has side work for the day assigned according to your section," the server replied. I then proceeded to the back, located the chart, and finished my coordinating side work and checked out with the manager. I headed for the door wearing a grin, and sixty-two welcome dollars in my pocket. I also received my schedule for the week, which made me think, 'if I make sixty-two dollars every shift, it would be perfect.' I hurried home in hopes that Comfort would be
there for me to explain the awesome day I had to her. Halfway home, I passed a store that caught my eye . . .

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