Quarter Life Crisis

“Maybe I’ll just be a stripper,” I moaned, setting my computer down after over an hour of searching for and applying to jobs.
“That’s nice,” Zoe snickered. “Is it bad that I can totally see you doing that?”
“Does that mean you’re picturing me taking my clothes off? What would Alfie say?” I teased.
“Shut up,” she snipped.
“Uh-huh,” I muttered, laying down on the couch. I had made sort of cocoon of blankets there, so it was pretty comfortable. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as a real bed, but it was good enough. “I just want to lay here all day, real life is hard.”
“Oh, shush,” Zoe said from across the room. “You know what you should do? You should get up and actually visit a couple of places to find jobs. Like, there are a bunch of family owned places down the street that might not have online applications.”
“Don’t you have to be in the family to work at places like those?” I asked.
“Not necessarily,” she shrugged.
I thought about it for a minute.
“Come with me?” I asked.
“Ha, no, I have to study,” she said. “I have a test tomorrow that I am nowhere near prepared for.”
“Yeah, well, you better work that out- don’t wanna end up like me,” I sighed.
“Kells, that’s not what I meant,” she said, pouting. I looked over at her as she prepared some sort of food in the kitchen. I felt bad for how much I teased her, but she knew it was all in good fun. I guess it wasn’t all bad.
“Fine, I’ll go,” I moaned, reluctantly crawling out from my cocoon.
I picked out some decent-looking clothes and disappeared into the bathroom so I could change. Before long, I was saying good-bye to Zoe and heading out the door. I hated how cold it was in New York during the winter.
Zoe was right- there were a lot of small businesses and café-style places down the street. Before I ended up crashing in her living room, I had been to her apartment a number of times, but I never really noticed what was around.
I really didn’t see anything that seemed to be hiring, or interesting for that matter. After a while of just walking around like an idiot, I came across this little sandwich shop. I figured I could go inside and get something to drink and simultaneously enjoy the warmth of being inside. Maybe just getting some food or something would make the rest of the day go by easier.
I walked inside, and was surprised by how small the place actually was. The dining area was small with only a couple of tables on either side of the place. Straight ahead was a counter where I assumed I was supposed to go and order. Apparently I was too busy spacing out and trying to analyze the menu that I didn’t even notice the guy standing behind the counter.
“Can I help you?” he asked. I jumped, startled and looked down from the menu.
And then my train of thought got screwed up all over again when I saw him.
He was fucking gorgeous. He was on the shorter side, with shoulder-length brown hair. He wore a backwards snapback and his nose was pierced. His brown eyes looked so calm and nice, even though he was glaring at me.
“Can I help you?” he asked again, a hint of agitation in his voice.
“Sorry, um-“ I was about to form a coherent sentence, when I was interrupted by a sudden outburst behind the counter. The guy spun around to see what had happened. I couldn’t tell what was going on, I just heard a guy yelling about being fed up and hating roast beef. I was willing to bet that there was more to the argument than that, but it was all I got.
Before I knew it, there was a spiky-haired man bursting out of a side door and storming through the restaurant and out the front door. I watched as he left, completely confused. I also felt a little awkward because it seemed like one of those moments that wasn’t technically supposed to see or hear.
A few seconds later, the guy with the nose piercing re-appeared behind the counter.
“I apologize for that, sir,” he muttered under his breath. He didn’t sound happy at all.
“What was that about?” I chuckled nervously. Then, I mentally slapped myself for prying even further into something that was none of my business. I couldn’t help but cringe at the bad first impression I was making.
“Oh, nothing, that was only the second person to quit this week,” he sighed. “But, you know, C’est la Vie.”
“Oh, are you French?” I asked. God, I was really an idiot. This was another reason I hadn’t had a boyfriend in so long- I was awkward as fuck and I sucked at flirting.
He raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘really?’ and shook his head, “Um, no … did you want to order something?”
Then I did some amazing calculations in my head and-
“Wait, would you be hiring then? If two people quit?” I asked, excitedly… probably a little too excitedly, to be honest.
“Yeah, I suppose … why? You wanna work here?” he asked.
“Um … well, I’ve been searching for jobs lately and-“
“Do you want to work here,” he repeated.
“If you’re hiring, yeah,” I said, with a shrug.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Kellin Quinn,” I informed him. He chuckled.
“Well, Kellin Quinn, if you’re willing to start today, I’ll hire you,” he said. I smiled and thanked him as a thought slowly formulated in my mind.
I’ll hire you …
I’ll hire you …
This guy was the fucking manager.

Notes