There were a lot of things I loved about my job, a lot. The exceptional coffee we got, the fast Wi-Fi, hell, even the ridiculous amounts of girl scouts that came in offering us free cookies because we were helping people made me love my job at Bryanston so much.
There was one thing though, one thing that made the job absolute heaven for me and that was the 4:3 Day Policy. It was pretty simple, you went to work for 4 consecutive days and then you had 3 days off. It seemed strange to me at first but then I realised that it eliminated so much admin work. People rarely asked for leave, even maternity leave so all that paperwork was reduced. Nobody ever asked for days off because they had them so often which explains why everyone at work was usually so relaxed and happy because we always got enough resting time because we usually worked 10 to 12 hour shifts.
The one thing though was that if your 4 work days happened to fall on Christmas or New Year's or your birthday, sorry for you, you have to suck it up. But that was literally the only downfall of the 4:3 Day Policy and that was not enough to make me not like the system because I absolutely adored it.
So here I was on a Thursday morning, waking up at 9am after a delightful 8 hours and 15 minutes of sleep. I opted for a bath today instead of a shower because I had all the time in the world to have a bubble, play music and sit in the tub until the water started getting cold.
As I got dressed in my bedroom, I ran through a list in my head of all the errands I had to run today. First I had to restock my fridge with fresh fruits and veggies, all that was left from my fresh produce was a sad looking banana that had retreated to the dark side after a few days of neglect.
I also had to do the laundry, clean the apartment and lastly I knew I had to call someone about something I just couldn't remember who it was. I figured I'd get on with everything else and I'd remember later in the day.
Cleaning the apartment doesn't take long, it usually takes me about two hours max and that's when I'm messing around, dancing with the broom.
I plugged my phone into the speakers in the living room and put it on shuffle. That was probably one of the most exciting and unpredictable things ever, listening to music on shuffle.
With my broom in my hand, clothed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, I was ready to clean my place up. Two songs later and half way through Twenty One Pilots' Stressed Out, I put the broom away and unleashed my bucket and mop.
Mopping the tiles in the kitchen and bathrooms sucked but not as much as polishing the wooden floors in the living room. On my knees, polishing the crap out of that floor with Blurred Lines blaring from the speakers had me eager to finish all of this..."domestic" work.
My parents had suggested on many occasions that I find myself someone to do the housework for me because I was usually busy and tired but I really didn't see the need because I was perfectly capable of putting on a pair of yellow, rubber gloves and scrubbing the toilet. Despite the fact that I was raised in a home where we had a domestic helper, my parents still have her, I didn't think it was necessary for me to get my own helper.
About an hour and a half later, my floors were sparkling, my furniture polished and the entire apartment smelt like lilies, thanks to the scented furniture polish I used. I switched my music off right in the middle of an old Michael Jackson song to go to my bedroom and collect the laundry.
I was grateful for the laundry room that I had where I was able to wash my clothes with the washing machine, hang them in the same room to dry and iron them later on. Sure hanging my clothes up on the line in the laundry room meant having to leave them over night but that was no problem with me because it was a lot more convenient than going to hang everything outside.
I went back to my bedroom to change into some publicly decent clothes, grab my bag, my cell phone and car keys and was out of my apartment in twenty minutes.
I drove to the local grocery store, took a trolley and headed straight for the smoothie counter first. There was a short line and I went to stand at the back of it. I mindlessly scrolled through my cell phone, checking e-mails and texts.
Kylie had texted me suggesting a girl's night out and Victoria had texted me suggesting brunch. My dad had texted me reminding me of my aunt's birthday and I had an e-mail from a random thing I probably subscribed to a while ago.
"Megan!" I looked up when I heard my name. The boy at the counter called me to him. I skipped the line, earning some looks from the waiting customers.
"Ian." I smiled at the sight of the smoothie he held in his hand. "What's this?" I asked him as I leaned on the cold counter. The sixteen-year-old grinned.
"Your favourite, mango-nana smoothie made with vanilla ice cream and not yoghurt, extra love." He beamed. I chuckled. The boy did know what I liked and he was absolutely adorable. I was aware of the little crush he had on me because he did absolutely nothing to try and hide it.
"Aaw, you spoil me." I teased. Ian blushed.
"Only for the prettiest lady around." He said. I chuckled.
"Five years, Ian, you missed your chance by five years." My observation brought a slight pout to his lips but he perked right back up.
"Doesn't mean I'm gonna stop trying." He countered. I chuckled, pulling a twenty from my pocket and putting it on the counter.
"Have a nice day, Ian." I said as I took a step back, intending to turn around and walk away.
"But your change." He said quickly.
"I always let you keep the change, kiddo. You know that." I chuckled and left with my trolley.
I sipped on the refreshing smoothie only to realise that I actually hadn't eaten today. I shrugged it off and continued to have the mango, banana blended drink while inspecting some avocados in a crate in the fresh produce section.
I spent about half an hour at the store and ended getting more than what I needed but I did that often, food was my weakness. I took my bags after paying at the counter and loaded them into my car.
I had virtually nothing left to do for the rest of the day so I went to a restaurant to finally get some food in my stomach.
As a teenager I used to judge to people that sat eating alone at restaurants and it was only towards the end of college that I realised how much work it actually was to get your friends to all agree on a time and place to meet, sit down and have a meal together.
The restaurant that I went to was very calm. The atmosphere was as mellow as the décor that was refined and fresh. The lighting was dim, making the already dark browns from the furniture and walls seem darker. I was seated at a table and a waiter came to take my order.
I ordered myself a coffee seeing as I hadn't had my daily fix and I also got pasta with lamb ragù. My coffee came quickly but I was told that I'd have to wait a bit for my food. I was in no rush and just sipped on my coffee while observing people in the restaurant.
The table to my left had a couple talking lowly and giggling...they were sharing some pudding, cute. I couldn't see who was behind me but I overheard something about a chicken farm. Finally, at the table right across from me was a man in a suit, his back was to me as he spoke with someone opposite him.
Not long after the man rose and a taller man opposite him stood up as well. They shook hands and the shorter man left. The man that was left was in a navy suit, and shirt with a maroon tie. He was so tall, easily standing at 6'5". He had dark brown hair and when he looked from his departing friend to me, suddenly I was able to see his grey eyes. He held my gaze as he sat back down, the empty seat across his table gave us the opportunity to stare at each other.
He was definitely handsome, looked like he knew it too, it was just something about him that made him seem like that. He sipped on his glass of red wine and I scanned his hand to find no pieces of jewellery other than a gold watch peeking out from under his blazer.
My meal arrived and I diverted my attention from the man in blue to the plate of food that was put down in front of me. My waiter left but before I started eating I noticed the man in blue call my waiter, I assumed he was going to ask for his bill so I just went on eating my food.
After eating up all of my food like the hungry woman I was, I waited for my waiter to come to clear the table so I could ask for my bill.
"Will you please bring the bill for me?" I said to him.
"Oh, ma'am, your bill has been paid." He replied almost instantly. I was confused.
"By who?" I asked.
"By the gentleman who was sitting there." He gestured to the now empty table opposite me. My brows came together and then I just nodded slowly.
"Oh...uhm...okay, then I guess I just have to tip you-"
"No, ma'am, that's also been taken care of, generously." He added with a chuckle. I blinked up at him.
"Oh, okay, so I guess I'm gonna go then." I rose from my seat.
"Enjoy the rest of your day." He beamed before leaving with my empty plate and coffee cup.
"You too." I muttered to myself.
I left the restaurant absolutely curious about the gentleman in blue who decided that paying for my food was a good idea even though he didn't know who the hell I was.
I wasn't complaining though, who would complain about this? Definitely not me.
A/N Oh soul it was a filler chapter AND I added in a little mystery treat for you guys, let me know what you guys thought. How cute was Ian? And oh, who do you think the Gentleman in Blue could be?
Share your thoughts, vote and comment.
Xoxo
K