Saturday, 20 January 2024

Royal 9.14.1998 (#2)

They made me one fifty one at work. I am more than a number I am many numbers. They dispatch me calling out one five one. I can park in loading zones. I can tell the concierges to fuck off. You cannot tow me. I have met the great smiles of secretaries who seem to want more than a transaction. Walked out of a production company with two boxes destination Loyola University in my arms. She held the door for me, smiling, her tight thin black pants and loose thin white shirt up against the glass. She had a very nice ass. It was late in the day and I was tired and in a rush and I was grateful. There was nothing blatant like Rebecca who held an elevator for me for over two minutes after I passed her going to lunch or something, so I was slow on the uptake. They know I work for Velocity by the company logo on my shirt and it’s a respected outfit in downtown Chicago. When I got outside I realized I had not signed any delivery sheet so I went back to the studio and asked her, do you need my number? No, she said, smiling with that killer smile, But give it to me anyway… One five one. I’m sure I gave her the wrong one. With all these numbers I am, it’s hard to guess which one they want.

by #katyamills

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