Ch. 1 Portrait of a Girl
"She said I had cooties and pointed at me and laughed. Do I really have cooties?" Brian the curly haired seven year old asked me as we sat together in a small table by a bowling lane. This boy comes every Tuesday afternoon with his nanny and plays a nice game of bowling, and the fun part is that he always has a story to tell.
"I think, that Lizzie doesn't really think you have cooties, you did tell me she put glue in your hair once, right?" Brian nodded eagerly and I continued. "So yeah, I think she might be a bit shy towards her real feelings."
"But she laughed at me"
"I think that's a way of telling you she does like you. She likes to tease you" We were eating a plate of seasoned fries with ketchup as a way to help us think, that was our excuse when we bought them. Nothing is better than a batch of french fries to help us cope with problems.
"You think I should pull her hair again?"
"Of course, then she'll know for sure you like her." What a way to give a little boy advice, but still I do believe that will work to his advantage. I mean, isn't that what kids do these days?
"Gwen! Is this your break time?" Oh shit. I stood up quickly dusting the left over french fry crumbs off my black ensemble. My boss made everyone at Lucky Strike wear black jeans and a black shirt to work everyday because according to him, it made us look classy. Go figure.
"Then? Stop talking to our costumers."
"Yes, okay." I turned to face Brian and made a funny face that made him giggle with sencerity. It's always heartwarming to know you can put a smile on a kid simply by putting on a funny face, it's doesn't that work that way with adults. When I then turned back to my boss he gave me a weird look like he knew what i had just done. I hated my boss truly, but there was one thing nobody could deny, he was hot. With blonde hair and blue eyes, nice abs from what I can tell by the shirts he sometimes wears, tall....but his attitude was a total turn off. I walked over to the front desk miserably where absolutely no customers were coming in from, mostly because it was Tuesday, and leaned against the counter until any customers arrived.
"Gwen, I'm getting tired of tellling you to do your job"
"But there is no one coming in, I was just giving Brian advice. That poor boy-"
"Who's paying you?"
"Who's paying you?" he asked again angrily and I watched his eyes form into little serious slits.
"Bingo. Now get to your job before I fire you" He said seriously as I nodded. When I saw that he wasn't going to turn back I watched him walk away. Boy, did that man have a nice butt or what!
"Excuse me" I head a woman say as I was checking my boss out and quickly turned around to face her.
"Sorry, Welcome to Lucky Strike, how many lanes will you want today?"
"One please, are the rental shoes included in this fee."
"No they are not ma'am"
"Oh, well that's fine then" The lady and the man she came with paid the fee and left to get shoes. Working at Lucky Strike is certainly not the most fabulous job out there, it is a bowling alley after all, so one gets to meet the most outrageous characters in this place. Over excited children, horny teenagers, horny adults, adults who think they should be posh when they walk these doors. Everything. This can sometimes become a spotlight for the old wanting to be young.
I treat my job as a way to escape my family and of everything that bothers me in life, and to busy myself on my free time. Plus, I need all the money I can get since my dad is always on me about spending his money on useless things, especially because to him I should have moved out a long time ago. So instead of asking for money when I need it, I work for it. Despite what people think, my goal in life is not to become mananger of this lovely bowling alley, it's to become a good photographer to the point where I can make a living out of it. That's my dream, becoming a photographer, the whole thing fascinates me because when you're taking pictures, you care about how things are looking, and not about anything else.
When my shift is finally over I hurry down to the employee lockers they have in the backroom and retrieve my bags from my personal cubby. I swing the two bags I have over my shoulder and swipe my time card on the time slot. I put my dark hair up in a bun with chopsticks to hold them since Chris, my boss, requires hair to be down, and I bolt out the door. The Lucky Strike in which I work is located in L.A live right next to the Staples Center, which I hate because usually the costumers that come to Lucky Strike, are all egotistical sports fanatics, that want to impress girls with their ridiculous bowling moves.
I run down the escalator that is a few steps from Lucky Strike and head over to the nearest bus stop which I take to college everyday. I take a late class on Photography Techniques at college that I end up misiing a lot because Chris switches my shift spontaneously sometimes. I think he does it just to be an asshole. There are two reasons why I love that class. One, obviously being because I feel photography is my passion, and two, Nikon is there. Nikon is the nick name I gave the most dazzling boy I've ever met in school. I call him that mostly because he always uses Nikon brand cameras. He is such a dream and fun to be around, no to mention how good he is at what he does, a natural artist, and the way he holds his camera to get a good shot, is just so damn sexy.
That is why that like most days, I pray that the bus does not take long to get here because I really like going to the class. But to today is extra special you see, and it is because today is the day when Iwill ask him to pose for me.