"Oh. By the way. How did you hear about us? If you don't mind saying."
"My neighbor. He orders Ming's every day."
"Thanks. We are trying to figure out where are customers are coming from. Anyways, thank you for your business."
The other line went blank. Jack stared out the window. He knew it would be brighter out there. Even with the big windows you could never get it as bright inside as it was outside.
Jack thought of the time but didn't check his phone. It was about three. He had an appetite. After bringing back the shrimp
lo mein
to the room he would eat it while watching the guy across the street. He would be getting back around the same time the guy across the street would be getting his delivery. Jack would pretend to be eating alongside him. In that room.
After that he would head out about five thirty or so. Walk around for an hour or two and then head to
Rust Bar
and drink some
PBR
s while texting
Imogen Howe
and watching the people at the bar.
He still liked this routine. Soon it would get old. He'd eventually have to do something else. Most likely he wouldn't go back to LA. No idea what was next. But until then he'd spend the evenings walking under the orange sun. Then taking refuge at the darkness of Rust Bar. Before it got too dark and too many people poured in, you could see the dust floating in the spots where the
sun
filtered through slits of the window blinds.
Jack wet his lips while he went out the door. He was looking forward to the lo mein. And the beer later. And even though it was impossible, maybe meeting up with Imogen this evening.
He should go for it he thought. Not just text her. Ask her to meet up. She wasn't that far.