I did not expect to wake up to my phone this morning.
I expected to wake up to a dark sky. I dreamed about a large plate of eggs with half a plate of greasy hash browns and a conglomeration of cheese, polish sausage, noodles, and more eggs. A half-gallon of water plus a glass of orange juice. God, my mouth waters just thinking of it.
What I got was a tired rendition of a sob story.
The good ex-chief Blake Santiago called me at five-freaking-am because his friend had a shitty night with his teenage daughter. Not that I can really talk much about shitty teens.
From what I was able to hear over Blake's gruff monotonous tone, the chief's daughter had a bad break-up. I can't really remember much about the phone call: I was hungry, sue me.
I think Blake could tell that I wasn't all there. I'm also pretty sure he slurped down some saliva when I was making my egg-noodle-sausage masterpiece. I should make him some.
Anyway, the breakup. So, the chief's name is Swaine or something, and his daughter got involved with a rich kid from a family that moved a lot. Blake said something about Alaska? Well, this kid left chiefs' daughter in the woods and she just curled up and waited for him to come back.
Weird Flex but okay.
Blake ranted about how rude the kid was to chiefs' daughter. I believe his exact words were "Fucka just left ha there and swanned off to Timbuctoo o' some shite". Honestly, I chocked on my eggs. He laughed.
So, after a couple hours of catching up to Blake, and hearing him swear at a desk lamp for a solid five-minute period, I had to hang up and go to work.
Not without eating two protein bars before I left my apartment. I'm still a growing boy.
The walk to work was normal in that it took forever. Seriously, I was moving in molasses or something. My muscles are twitching with how much I had to clench in order to stop myself from jogging to the bakery. Of course, my jogging would more than likely be like a pro sprinter to the people around me. It would be hilarious though; seeing everyone's faces once I just randomly shot through the crowd.
I wonder what they would think about me. Maybe I was late for work? Had a bad day? Drugs? Probably drugs. I don't really live in the best part of the city. New York gets crazy man. It's better living in the dirt-cheap place I've got though. For one, I can afford to get excessive amounts of groceries. For two, I get to see a lot of my friends.
I like seeing my friends. They're super chill, even though they would pull a knife on someone without hesitation.
Although, I'm getting kind of bored with how slow life here has gotten. Not like, normal slow. Maybe I'm getting faster? That would be fucking suckish.
Getting to the bakery was a godsend. The owner lets me eat the product that must be taken down every three hours. For free. For. Free.
I wasn't expecting to wake up to a call, and I wasn't expecting Blake to call back asking for a favor either.