September , 1995.
Sure, I had been looking forward to coming back to New York City— It had been at least six years since I was able to enjoy the beaming heart and soul that is Manhattan; the smells of the exhaust from the many cars that filled the streets, or the lovely lights and thumping music that radiated off the intricate buildings of Times Square. My closest friend, Keisha, was surely full of excitement, probably even more so than I, to finally grab onto an apartment offer in the Washington Heights area. And of course, asked me to join in being her roommate, for as long as we were both able to afford living there.
My name? Jamilyn Mitchell, but everyone called me Jamie. I was now 25 years old at the time of returning to the city, but when I lived there before, I was just turning 18. The memories flooded back of my days in college, the time spent in the arts program at Columbia University. But those weren't very long memories (most of them I tried to flush away if I could) as I dropped out a year into my course of study. Not because of failure from grades, no, but because I wanted to focus on helping support my family financially.
Originally I was from the Middletown area, living with my younger brother, Eric, and mother, Shannon. We never knew our dad, so he clearly wasn't there to help support us, and I felt it was better if I gave up going into longer schooling, especially since my brother was still in high school at that time. Things were different now though. Eric was 23 and made more than enough money to help mom. So, with a lot of persistence, Keisha was finally able to drag me along with her in the travels back to NYC. If I hadn't, I definitely wouldn't have heard the end of it. She had always wanted to make a move like this since we were younger. But I was glad to help her cross off at least one thing on her crazy bucket list.
"Girl, if you don't hurry up with those boxes," she had said to me, with a hint of a teasing expression on her face, holding a box of her own items against her chest. We were on our way inside of our new apartment building, standing at the trunk of her 1990 silver Nissan Sentra. Even though I wasn't exactly on the way just yet, considering the struggle I had lifting up my own box— It was heavy, I promise, I wasn't that much of a wimp.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," I sang, rolling my eyes in a playful manner, "But it would be nice if you could at least lend me a hand, 'Ms. I Can Carry Two Boxes At Once.'"
"You're being dramatic. Maybe our first outing will be going to gym."
I blew a short, breathy laugh at her suggestion. It was funny to me how out of all the places in the area, our first stop would be somewhere we could've went to back at home. At that moment, I was sure the first place I would have gone was the new job I was supposed to be starting at. It seemed like it would be exciting enough— Well as exciting as pouring coffee and waiting on people could be. But I'd heard the money was nice there, as it was always packed with people. Plus the guy I had the interview with weeks prior seemed nice enough too... Although, his hair almost blinded me. I'd never seen hair that bright on anyone before.
Eventually we had gotten everything unpacked, but to say that we would have enough space for it all would have been a lie. There was a known thing about New York apartments, which was that they were extremely small. We still had enough room for us to sleep, but it surely wasn't the most luxurious place. That was the price to living somewhere as fancy as the Big Apple. And it would be a big adjustment to both me and Keisha's homes back in Middletown. It wasn't like our houses there were mansions, but compared to that apartment? Probably so.
Decorations and other items would come later, yet I had no doubt that my best friend's box full of her favorite VCR tapes would've been unpacked first. Which, of course, I was right, and that first night was filled with plenty of buttery popcorn, delicious cocktails, Pretty Woman, and Pulp Fiction. I also couldn't help but add a little of The Princess Bride into the mix, and we weren't able to stop saying "As you wish" to each other for days. That was my favorite movie ever, after all.
Thursday arrived very quickly, though. Finally came the day I couldn't stop thinking about before moving: My training day at work, which was technically my first day. I wasn't necessarily nervous, or stressed, or excited for that matter, just more so curious than anything else. I had never worked in food business before. My last job was housekeeping for some local families, but this was a whole different world. Now I'd be working for the public— And if I knew one thing, people certainly got irate when it came to their food and drinks. What if I'd given them the wrong items or forgot what they ordered? They probably would've fired me on the spot. There was no way they would have kept someone like that, right?
My shift started at 8 am, but to get there early, I made sure to catch the taxi at 6:45. It only took around 40 minutes to get there from my place, but I was scared that traffic would severely hold up my time even longer, and there was no way I was going to be late for my first day on the job. My brunette hair lay splayed across my blue, long-sleeved shirt, and I tried to comb it with my fingers to move out the strays. I wore a skirt that came a bit above my knees, but I wouldn't receive the apron until I arrived.
We soon pulled up to the building around 7:50, and I hurriedly paid the driver before sprinting out the car. No, I wasn't late, but I wanted to look at least somewhat early to make a good impression. Good impressions were the key in my book; that meant they would have more of a reason to like me— at least I hoped. I went up to the door and glanced through the window, watching the many people sitting inside and enjoying their many cups of coffees and bagels, along with the giant words 'CENTRAL PERK' designed on the glass, with two cups, one on each side. I could already smell the pleasant aroma of the beans being brewed just from outside the door.
"Here we go," I mumbled to myself, and with one deep breath, I entered the café.
None of the customers really paid much attention to me— Most were intensely involved in their conversations, sipping their lattés and whatnot, some laughing, some smiling, some reading from books. But one person did seem to notice me— The man from that time I was interviewed with the super bright, blond hair. He waved for me to come over, as I had paused at the door to take in the view of the restaurant. I'd completely forgotten his name, but as I approached, I was able to read the name tag that was attached to his shirt.
I smiled softly, extending my hand in greeting. "Hi again. It's... Gunther, right?"
"Oh, you remembered," he smiled slightly in return as he shook my hand.
"Well, not really. It's sorta on your shirt, heh."
Gunther glanced down at his clothing, seeming to be a bit surprised by that statement, before looking back up at me again. "Ah, I forgot. I almost never put that on. Anyway, come with me, I have some people for you to meet."
He led me behind the counter to the side doors, allowing me some time to see where everything was when it came to supplies that were needed for the shift, which seemed to be a lot, but it probably wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. After getting through the doors, he pulled a Central Perk apron off of a hanger and told me to put it on. As I did so, we began to approach a few women that were obviously my new workmates.
He stopped in front of them. "Ladies, this is Jamie Mitchell, She's starting work here today as our new waitress." Gunther then turned back to me. "Jamie, this is Hannah... Casey... and last but, definitely not least, Rachel." His smile widened in a geeky, admirable way as he glanced at the last woman, who must have been Rachel. The three of them also smiled at me, and I did the same.
Normally I had this worry about working with new people, especially when it came to girls— There always seemed to be some competitive side to them, just like it was when I was in high school. The ones that wanted to be the best at everything or stand out to all the guys, or be the hottest. But those three women didn't appear to be that type. Well, the Rachel girl, maybe, but not Hannah or Casey. Rachel seemed super stylish in her outfit, like the girls that always had to wear the best clothing. She was lovely; her dirty blonde hair was in the cutest style— It made me kind of nervous that I might be compared to her, but I didn't want to judge too quickly. Maybe she was really nice. Still, I wanted to get a feel of how she was first, so I planned not to be around her that much yet, just in case she confirmed my suspicions.
"Rachel, I want you to train Jamie."
Son of a—. Those words that left Gunther's lips almost made me cough on air. I had just decided not to hang around that woman and then he changed those plans in an instant. Although it seemed like she wasn't all too excited about that idea either, as a look of worry was now written all over her face instead of the once welcoming smile.
"Um, Gunther— ... I'm really not sure that I'm training material! I-I don't even remember what the difference between a macchiato and a cappuccino is! Or, or why that one coffee pot has an orange spout and handle instead of black like the others!" She whined.
"That means decaf," He answered, plainly.
She bit her bottom lip. "Oh... Well this one guy is so not gonna be happy when he falls asleep in his staff meeting this morning... You really should've told me that a long time ago."
"I did. Four times." The manager shook his head with a sigh. "Listen, don't worry about it. Maybe you training her will help you to remember things better. And of course, if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask me."
"Really?"
"Of course... Anything for you..." His lips rose to a cornered smile again, and his cheeks reddened some as he added a soft, inconspicuous, "... Dear." But she most likely didn't hear that part. Obviously I noticed what was going on there— He had some kind of crush on her and she probably didn't know about it. What if that was why he hired her? Seemed slightly creepy, yet also kind of endearing in an odd way. As for Rachel, I wasn't quite sure I wanted to be trained by someone who didn't even know how the restaurant worked herself. But I wasn't going to question it out loud, at least for that moment.
Hannah and Casey walked by me, heading out the doors to the front of the store, and Gunther went off to the back of the building into a small office. So there I stood, left with Rachel. I didn't plan on making it awkward— I had no problem talking, but I was worried this training was not going to go well. Although, she still wasn't giving off mean or snooty energy yet. So I changed my mind and decided to give her a chance.
"So, Rachel," I began, tucking my hair behind my ear, " How long have you been working here?"
"About a year now," she answered. "And I know you're probably thinking that I should know everything by now, but ugh, god, this is just not what I thought I'd still be doing for work, you know?"
That made sense. It was obvious that someone wasn't going to put their 100% effort in something that didn't really hold their interest, or make them happy for that matter. She was right, I had been a bit confused on why she hadn't learned everything by now, but I definitely understood her situation a little better after that.
"What did you think you'd be doing?"
"Something fashion related! That's where I would love to be. But for now I'm stuck here, serving coffee to nice customers and sneezers to the rude ones."
I rose an eyebrow. "Sneezers? Like sneezing on food?"
Rachel paused for a second before giving a light embarrassed laugh. "If Gunther asks, I never told you that... Trust me, it may seem crazy right now, but work here for a week and you'll thank me."
I laughed softly and nodded as I followed her out the doors to stand behind the front counter. She showed me where they placed the coffee beans and the pots, where all the sugar and sweeteners were, their pens and pads for the orders, tea bags, and other items used to make the drinks. It didn't seem too difficult, but of course taking orders would probably be a little harder than the rest of what they did.
"So uh, what do you do if you forget what someone ordered?" I asked softly, taking a scan of all of the customers in the room.
"Well, I'm not gonna lie to ya Jamie, I do that a lot. Most people are usually nice about it, though. Just ask them again to verify."
I was starting to feel a lot more comfortable with Rachel. She hadn't been what I was picturing in my head at all. Maybe it was a good thing that Gunther decided for me to train with her. And since my only real friend around was Keisha, I hoped I could at least gain a few new friendships with people in my age group. It might have been too lonely any other way.
I took a seat at one of the bar stools. "Have you always lived in New York?"
She nodded, "Yeah, I actually grew up in Long Island. What about you?"
"I'm from a little further upstate than here. Middletown. I just moved into an apartment in Washington Heights with my best friend a couple days ago."
"No kidding! I live with my best friend too, here in Greenwich Village!"
"That's awesome," I replied, smiling a little more. "It's always fun to have a roomie." It was exciting that we had a couple things in common, even though they weren't the most amazing things to have in common. But it was enough to get me interested in learning more about her as we worked together.
The training that day had been going well— Time was moving quickly, but not quickly enough for my shift to finally be over. There was a big breakfast rush that started up at around 8:30, but it started to clear out closer to 1:00, and surprisingly, I learned a good amount about how to handle rushes and quickly make drinks. Gunther of course had to intervene a few times, but Rachel wasn't as horrible of a waitress as she claimed to be. After finishing brewing up a new pot of coffee, I walked back over to her. She was standing behind the bar table, scribbling something on a napkin. Curiosity got the best of me, and I leaned up a little closer just to see what it was, sitting down in front of her on the stool.
"Who's Ross?" I teased with a little grin and an arched eyebrow.
She quickly scribbled the name and crumbled the paper into her hands. "N-No one...?" Her embarrassed laugh that followed said otherwise.
"Come onnn, tell me. Who is it? Your boyfriend?"
"Ohhh he wishes...," the blonde mumbled before continuing. "No, it's this guy... My friend that happens to be a guy. That I happen to be hopelessly in love with... And that happens to be dating this other girl... Julie. Oh how I despise that Julie."
Just the way she grimaced when she said her name was enough for me to know she was telling the truth. It sounded like some drama that I wasn't sure if I was ready to be apart of yet. I definitely had my past share of boy troubles, after just getting out of a two year relationship the year prior. So I understood a good bit of the craziness that love and heartbreak could cause.
"Does he know you love him?"
She sighed. "No.. At least I don't think. But I've been debating telling him. Either that or just giving up on the whole thing. All I know is that if I could get that Julie out of the picture, I would. I was so close to telling him a couple weeks ago at the airport and then, BAM, there she is taking up all the spotlight. I mean who does she think she is anyway?"
"I'm sorry... That's gotta be rough," I replied sincerely. "Ya know what, I wish Julie was out of the picture too, just for you."
Her attention darted up to the entrance and she almost gasped, tossing the balled up paper in the trash. "Alright, thank you Jamie, but let's shut up about it because here he comes now. Um, why don't you pour him a cup of coffee because I'm sure he'll ask for it. Give him two creams and one sugar, thank you!"
Rachel left from behind the table and headed toward the direction of the door, but to give them privacy and not make it obvious that we were clearly talking about him, I decided not to turn back to see what he looked like, and instead went ahead and made his coffee the way Rachel described it. I grabbed a cup, pouring in the cream and adding the sugar before grabbing the coffee pot and pouring the hot liquid inside. I was just about to put the creamer back into the mini fridge when I paused at the sound of a male voice coming from behind me at the counter.
"I'd like a couple of jelly donuts, Ma'am, and before you get worried, I promise I'm not a cop and no, you're not under arrest, ha-ha."
With a swift turn around to see who it was, it immediately felt as if I had been hit with a million bricks at once. Just as if a group of people had been waiting for me to turn around just so that they could attack. I couldn't believe who was now standing directly in front of me. The same icy, blue eyes and wacky, but almost always boyishly charming grin written on his lips. The hair, slightly different then I remembered in the past, but for sure a similar wardrobe style— that loose-fit fifties bowling shirt that would hang a little below his waist. The cheesy grin from his previous cop joke slowly went away though as he met my own eyes, and it seemed as if we had both fallen into a certain gaze— A gaze that could only be from the awkwardness of 'Is that really him?' and 'Is that really her?'— That look of realization that we were now back in other's presence after all this time, after what happened, after all of those years of trying to forget my college past... It had all gone straight out the window. Because now, here I was, back in New York City, just as if I was Marty McFly and had taken a time machine back to 1988, to see none other than...
Wait...
What was his name again?