I had lunch with Juan, and I explained to him the uninteresting details about my Friday night.
Trisha had mentioned she didn't mind me doing anything public, as long as it didn't impact what I did while working.
I didn't hear anything from Alexander.
Not Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday.
Thursday I applied to some evening classes concerning the basics regarding investments. It was Tuesday and Thursday night I was having classes. From seven to eight thirty.
It suited me just fine, and I would start the following Tuesday. There wouldn't be classes that Thursday.
I had a short day Friday.
And then the weekend awaited me.
I knew I needed a social life, but I'd been here a month, and how much of a social life did that provide you?
Juan and Trisha I talked to.
And sometimes I even talked to those in economy. It was a man and a woman, she was a graduate, and he was really good at what he did. The two others and Courtney? They were a lot older and had children and family, and Courtney just didn't like me.
I spent Friday night looking out my window on Manhattan.
Maybe I should respond Alexander? A sort of, yes I saw you mail?
I grabbed my phone from my coffee table and opened the mail he'd sent me. The one who read thank you for going with me last night.
I hesitated in forever.
Okay, I could do this.
Dear Alexander
Sorry the late answer.
Thank you for the dress, it's stunning!
He wrote his initials and then his last name, but because this wasn't a job related mail I didn't see any reason why I should be that formal.
I sent the mail and looked out on the city again.
Even alone there was something about New York City which I'd fallen for. Fallen hard.
Tomorrow, Saturday, I would get lost. It was surprisingly easy between the many people, but I wanted to see if I could find something new. Like the last time I got lost and found a giant button with a sewing needle.
What would I else be able to find?
And when I'd saved up enough money, I would start spending my weekends visiting other cities and experience something. That was one of my underlying motives.
I didn't feel like reading.
Food? Or more accurately, cake?
I didn't want to bake. And I still had that asshole who wanted my bag a little too close to wanting to walk around alone on a Friday night. To go out alone all other evenings was a start, right?
My phone vibrated in my hand.
I looked at it.
Dear Christina,
Good.
A. E. Greene
Talk about a cold mail. I wasn't quite sure what to do about it, or if should just let it be?
I was pretty sure I just let it be. What else would it help to try and start a conversation at this point?
The full stop after good? Who wrote mails like that?! No one made space in a mail if said mail consisted of one word.
It made so sense.
I changed into my pajamas and watched TV.