The Daily Grind

The following is a guest post by new author Adam Barnett.

(The image above is by MattyFlicks found via Creative Commons)

3am

No one ever plans to stay up that late, it just happens. Second after second, time ticks by at half speed once the clock passes 1am.

James lay in bed, his eyes wide open, only seeing the complete darkness around him. Somewhere in the apartment a clock ticked. He spent tried to figure out where they still make a clocks that tick.

The eery silence throughout his neighborhood was unusual considering the proximity of the other townhomes and the thin walls that separate them. He enjoyed the silence though. It gave him the peace and quiet he needed to ponder the previous day.

Unfortunately, it also gave him a chance to stress about the day up and coming.

6:30am

With no recollection of ever drifting to sleep, James awoke. But he remained in bed with his eyes shut. He fought to tune out the alarm that had felt like a good idea last night but now he regretted. Getting up to run was becoming harder and harder as the sleepless nights built one upon another. James didn’t remember what time he’d set the alarm for, but he knew it was early. His shift at the Tot Shack was always too early.

The Tot Shack was his first job, and it was simple.  A slightly over minimum wage, retail job, it consisted of hours of mindless folding clothes. It was a way to productively pass the time before moving on to job number two.

4pm

With job number one finished, James had exactly a fifteen minutes to get to job number two, which was fifteen minutes away – if he got lucky and beat the lights.

As with any person, James had one guilty pleasure. It was a habit he simply could not shake: speeding.  The feeling of lightly stepping on the pedal and being pushed back into Stormy’s leather seats could not be replaced.

Stormy was a fifteen year old, dark grey, BMW, supercharged, three series convertible.  Up until meeting Shay, Stormy was the sole focus of James’ money and attention.  Even now, Shay was still jealous.  As a stock model, Stormy was faster than many on the streets.  With a little creative tuning and some after factory parts installed by James’ roommate Tony, the little car would take most people’s breath away.  It even had a button under the gear shift with a smiley face on it.  When pushed, even James had a hard time controlling the car.  He called the after effect of pushing the button “making Stormy loosen up”.  His mom absolutely refused to ride with him because she didn’t believe anyone could handle Stormy.

Stormy’s abilities helped James make good use of time. By avoiding most of the red lights and slow traffic, James arrived at job number two with  5 minutes to spare.

He also steered clear of the red and blue lights from unmarked Dodge Chargers. Encountering them would only add another bill to the stack he had waiting at home.

Job number two was the Neighborhood Diner. There he would sit and wait for something, anything to happen.  He was a waiter, thus his pay was primarily dependent on tips. Tips come from happy customers.  Happy customers was only possible when people were in the restaurant. There were no people in the restaurant. There were never any people in the restaurant.

10pm

James took care of three tables. Then his work day was finally complete. Five hours equated to a grand total of twenty-five dollars in tips.

He walked through the back door of the diner, passed the other employees who were talking and smoking, and slid into Stormy to begin the drive back home. The short car ride, was much too long for amount of money he earned.  Still, the ride was one of his only moments of solace during his day. He listened to music, felt the wind in his hair, and sped without fret.

The relaxation was always short-lived.  He arrived home a little before 11pm. The not-so-quiet neighborhood bustled with activity.

He attempted to sneak through the front door, hoping not disturb his two roommates and in turn continue his relaxation.  He took light steps and made slow movements.

It was not enough.

The door upstairs clinked open. James froze with hope that it was the wind. Tommy darted down the stairs to say “hello” and grab a soda and a bag of chips from the kitchen.

“Yo,” Tommy said. “You doin’ ok?”

“Fine. Just tired.”

“Want to play Dead Space? Speedy and I are pulling an all nighter?”

James shook his head “no” and silently wondered what Tommy didn’t understand about “tired.”

Tommy ran back up the steps and mumbled something about grumpy and goodnight.

James walked up the steps, turned left into his bedroom and closed the door. He sat on the edge of his bed and held his phone in his hand, waiting. This was it. The important moment. What he’d waited for all day.

Seconds dragged on.  After a day of monotony, there was one piece that held him together, one thing that couldn’t come soon enough.

The phone vibrated in his hand and he glanced at the screen. It showed the picture of  smiling face with the words “Best Friend” below it. “Finally,” he said to himself as he swiped the screen to take the call.

“Hi, Shay,” he said with a smile so bright it could be heard through the phone. They talked for hours before saying “goodnight.”

After the call James laid in bed and the nightly ritual began again.

3am

No one ever plans to stay up that late, it just happens. Second after second, time ticks by at half speed once the clock passes 1am.

James lay in bed, his eyes wide open, only seeing the complete darkness around him, knowing he would have to fight through another day before the light of the phone illuminated his world again.