tentative // styles [au]

One.

Sample number 11120. Month September. Year 2011. And - 

‘Joyce?’, my boss calls softly, snapping me out of my thoughts. Mr Deng, a man in his late fifties, but does not look like one. He looks younger than that with a long face and really really small eyes, that become even smaller (if that’s even possible) when he’s trying to concentrate on the computer screen in front of him.

I look at him, and he gestures at the clock that hangs on the wall across. ‘It’s getting late, ‘he says.

He’s right. It’s five past six in the evening. I’m usually at home by now. I just felt that some important work had to be done, so I decided to stay longer, but I didn’t realize it would become this late.

I nod at him and stand up from my chair. I start gathering my things and clearing my table that was messy with stacks of paper.

I bid Mr deng goodbye and head for the door, when I hear him call my name.

‘Yes'? I ask.

‘Please ask Lina to call that guy to bring all the new stuff for tomorrow’, he says in pure Chinese accent that is a little funny because it sounds like he’s trying out French accent.

Gao Lina, known as Lina, is a chinese woman in her early thirties, who works here with us at IPC. Her jet black hair that is usually in a bun on top of her head makes her look a lot younger.

Basically, the place that we call our office is Mr Deng’s own apartment. He’s got this big living room, that he’s changed it into an office-like-place or whatever.  So he’s got all these tables-like-desks here for us (Me, himself and Lina). Now he’s about to bring in another. So basically the whole living room looks like a typical office. And the best part is, it’s got this really homey and welcoming feeling and you don’t have to worry about dressing up all fancy for working too. I saw Mr. Deng dressed up in his pajamas once and to say that I was shocked would be an understatement. But anyways, it’s not that big of a deal. That’s because the business we do is related to exports and imports. So yeah.

 He told us yesterday that a new guy is going to work with us, and since he comes in tomorrow, he wants the new desk, chair or whatever stuff for him at the office by tomorrow. He just said that he’s not Chinese and a really great guy who’s going to be really good for IPC Qingdao.  I wonder where he’s from.

‘Yeah okay I will’, I smile and walk out the door.

……..

Grocery shopping, I tell myself sternly as I buckle my seat belt. I didn’t have any breakfast today because my cabinets and refrigerator were practically empty. I hate the fact that I’m so unorganized sometimes.

I text Lina about contacting that guy to bring in the stuff that Mr. Deng asked by tomorrow. She replies instantly saying that she’d already done that.

I decide on Lichuin, a really nice mall that’s not too far from my place.

I sigh in contentment when I drop all my favorite chocolate stashes and biscuits and chips and whatnot. You’d classify me as a five-year-old whose face lights up like a Christmas tree whenever she catches a sight of food. But hey, I’m older than that and I love food. Yeah, so what.

Carrying the grocery bags to my car and putting them in it is not something that I would call easy. Three bags. Three freaking big bags. And not to forget how tired I already was.

I feel tired and sleepy as I drive back. Oh wait, I still have to have dinner yet. Dinner. YAY. The thought erases a tiny wave of exhaustion from my body.

As I park my car and walk towards my building, I feel cold. Despite the fact that it’s only June, the weather is chilly. Qingdao is located in the north of china and it is usually balmy and cool here. But nonetheless, I love it. At least it’s not all sweaty and hot like in other places.

I rush inside the building and am embraced with warmth as I enter.

Once I’ve reached the elevator, I set my grocery bags on the floor, so that I can press the button. But when I turn towards it, the red button is glowing already, indicting somebody already pressed it.

I shrug and pick all my groceries and wait for the elevator. There are a few boxes lying on the floor next to the elevator. It seems as if –

‘Oh shit’, I hear a voice say and the next thing I know, my groceries are not in my hands anymore, but are out of the bags, and scattered on the floor.

All my things, my chocolates and…

‘What the hell?’ I exclaim, and turn back to the person. He’s got his back to me and is setting another box with the other boxes. He turns back to me and I notice that he’s not Chinese. Great, a foreign asshat.

‘I’d say I’m sorry but I won’t’, his deep voice is rude. I’m taken aback with his statement that I almost miss his British accent.

‘Excuse me, technically you should?’ I manage to say with an annoyed tone, indicating at the mess around me.

‘It’s your fault. You were standing in the middle like a fucking statue’, he says like it’s completely obvious.

‘So you just decide to crash into me and making me drop all my groceries?’, I say, getting upset.

‘Well, like I said, it’s your fault’, he says in a flat tone.

Ding.

He starts putting all the boxes in the elevator.

‘Wait, I will go first’, I say in a sharp voice.

‘Excuse me? I came here first’, he says in an irritated voice.

‘No, I came here first’, I reply.

‘No, I came here before you did and pressed this damn button’, he almost growls, gesturing towards the elevator button.

I know he’s right.

‘But you made me drop all my groceries!’ I say stubbornly.

‘Then I suggest you pick them up and wait for the elevator to come down’, he says in a monotone before the elevator doors closed.

I stand there like an idiot with all my groceries around me for five seconds before bending down and picking them up.

What an asshole.

Instead of waiting for the elevator, I take the stairs. Fifth floor. It shouldn’t be much of a problem.

…

I pant as I drop the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. I am not taking the stairs ever again.

Hello everyone. This was the first chapter. It's not very good. But yeah.

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-Sara.xx