With Glasses, Please.

First meeting

Reader's POV

It's been about 2 weeks since I started the job and it was about 6.55am when I got to the building, I was running late. Not through my fault though - well, I couldn't find a way inside since it was all closed this early in the morning. A reasonable person would call or text the day before to get the info but not me. No, I figured I could find a way in myself and I got horrible anxiety texting to the group chat our staff members have.

I was new to this job, to this world I should say, because my previous job experiences include working at kids' camps for two weeks each summer. So, in summary, none at all, that's why landing this job was even more surprising. Either they were desperate for new employees or I excelled in the interview.

Our store was simple in many ways, complicated in many more however. Sales advisor, my role job that is, wasn't exactly what I expected, it was just a fancy way of saying I was the cashier. I do other stuff too, from customer service to restocking to rebuilding, mainly I work behind the cash register though. I used to hate it from the beginning but I've grown to enjoy it, the people match my positive energy, this shift in my behavior was a pleasant surprise the job brought, being more talkative and easy going I mean. While I very much thrive in my new self, there was one more aspect I enjoy even more, one more person to be exact. My colleague Patricia. My manager.

When I finally stepped inside the warm office I had about five minutes to get ready. Upon opening the front door I heard a quiet but energetic voice.

,,Good morning, were you excited to come in at 7am on Sunday?" A woman in her late 20s said to me. I was taken aback by it and with a rather slow response. ,,Morning, of course, obviously." I didn't have time to ponder on my sarcastic tone as I went ahead and used the bathroom. The woman might have chuckled but I wasn't sure. Shit if only I could remember her name, problem for later I
suppose.

I took my water bottle and started heading out the office. I glanced at the schedule for today, only to learn that her name was Patricia. Odd name, never knew anyone by it, until now, of course. After clocking in she held out the door for me, with an all but too quiet 'thanks' I led us to the elevator. To my surprise we went lower than normally, different procedures she explained later on. In the elevator ride with the rather awkward woman, Patricia, she broke the silence again.

,,Got inside okay?"

Her voice was so calmingly dominant? I do not know how to explain it but it's so soft yet powerful.

,,Eh, well I couldn't rly find a way in but got it in the end, it's quite a maze haha." I choked out a laugh at the end, jeez why is small talk so difficult.

,,You could have called, you know, or texted the group, I would have answered." she said casually.

Right yeah, it was casual, just calling in, fully panicking from not finding a way in at 7 am and my manager simply answering. I mean it was their job after all. Leading us new guys. But then why did my heart skip a beat? The group chat, hm yes, that's why, the anxiety, obviously.

I studied her face for the rest of the elevator ride, her hair was up in a slick bun. Precisely done, not a strand of hair coming out. Wide jeans and a tight white t-shirt were framing her body, it suited her. Not overly dramatic, nothing too informal either, rather nice Sunday outfit.

When our eyes met I noticed the shades of blue in them even in the faint light and-

Ding.

The elevator door opened with a loud noise, snapping my attention back to reality just in time to notice that Patricia already strode far away while I desperately scurried behind her.

Catching up to her, I stayed behind her lean figure, following in her footsteps quietly. There was a rather awkward silence, maybe it wasn't all that bad but every silence felt weird to me. I'm used to filling out the quiet moments with talking whenever I'm with others, but here at work? I find it extremely difficult, they are usually far older than me, our interests cannot be the same and we're on duty.

How old is Patricia actually? She can't be that much older than me, maybe 27? I guess 26 works too-

,,Open the door for me, please"

I jerked at the sound of her smooth voice, wordlessly moving my hand to pull the door open. Watching Patricia drag some crates inside the storage room.

Shit, I should really start paying attention this morning but my mind keeps on slipping off, wandering. And before I can get my bearings I get called out for again. It's been barely even 5 minutes and im already getting overwhelmed. Jesus.

,,Hey could you help me count the cash registers?" Patricia asked, and while her words held a question there was no space for choice in her tone. It was still nicer this way than if she would put it out like an order. At least there was the illusion of a choice.

,,Of course, uh I thought the afternoon shift does that right?"

,,Yup but we have to do it again."

,,Ah."

We settle beside each other behind the counter on the main floor. Both of us counting together, I recheck her register and she checks mine. The silence settles again, only the sound of clashing coins and nails clicking the numbers into the screen fills the store.

She's done much faster than me, but simply waits without a word. I don't notice any judgement when our eyes meet.

Either she's really good at pretending or simply doesn't mind to wait.

No one's this considerate though, that I learned from those two weeks I worked here...

,,Come on, we have another one waiting down."

With squeaking shoes and clinking key cards we carriedon.