A Very Stressful Day

[Natasha Radcliffe]

If you’ve ever wondered what you get when the drunk, jealous boyfriend drives up the sidewalk in front of the crowded club to pick up his girl, I’ll tell you now: Three broken legs, five sprained ankles, one dislocated shoulder, seven cracked ribs, four mild concussions, and a half bottle of aspirin. The aspirin was for me. After all that crap I had a headache and Brother Wolf was getting very, very antsy.
“So much for working part-time, huh?” I knew the voice. Charlotte had come into the locker room as I’d been changing out of my jacket. She’s one of the many fellow doctors working at Manhattan General alongside me. I think she had more patients than I did tonight. She sat down on the bench and leaned towards me, providing me with a very revealing view down her low-cut blouse. Very unsubtle and I wasn’t into it. I'm not into that kind of flirting.
“It’s only a fifteen hour shift tonight. Imagine what the winds of fate will bring us on the weekend?” I replied, shoving my coat into my locker and retrieving my shirt. I wanted to dress quickly and get out of there before this situation got even more out of my comfort zone. Charlotte had been into me pretty much since I started here not too long ago and I’ve been trying to give her the cold shoulder, but I was taught by my mother to always be polite, never lie, and always smile. She never told me that some women find those things quite flirty. Damn it. What now, Mom?
“Forget about the weekend. You don’t work weekends anyway. Remember, Doctor?” She looked up at me with a very sexy curve to the side of her lip. She was putting it on thick and she had me trapped in here, pinned between her and polite etiquette behind me. I couldn’t turn my back on her and take the long way out. Damn.
“So why don’t we get out of here and grab a bite to eat? I could really use a beer too.” Her eyes dropped down to my waist and rose slowly to my now-blushing face as I was buttoning up my shirt. “I’ll walk you home.”  Damn. Again.
I could feel Brother Wolf getting even more excited. A whole flood of images of nude Charlotte and me wrapped up in so many different positions came at me so quickly it made my head spin! That impulsive mutt! That’s not fair! The only thing we’re getting tonight is a steak and a Silver Bullet! I know that pissed him off somewhat, but sometimes he really needs a good flick in the nose. And I happen to like Coor’s Light. Now how do I get out of here?
“I don’t think that’s a good idea tonight, Charlotte. I really don’t. I’d rather be by myself tonight and tuck in as early as possible. I’m sorry.” I smiled. Always smile. She looked like she took it well, even though I could sense she was more than mildly upset with me. She smiled and leaned herself against one of the lockers. My eyes instinctively and instantly drew to her skirt, rising as she slowly placed her heel on the locker with a soft bang.
She had wonderful legs: A creamy golden tan, obviously bought from a salon, but tantalizing, nonetheless. There was nothing right then I wanted to do more than to â€" Damn! Stop it right now! We’re going home tonight! Alone…again. Now tuck tail!

Usually I’d stop at the local Bite-n-Run for a burger but tonight had been especially rough and I needed to take care of Brother Wolf before I couldn’t get a handle on him anymore. Besides, there’s been this new place that opened that I wanted to try. I was immediately greeted by a very anxious looking teenager holding a menu and wearing a very toothy smile. “Heya Mister! Just you tonight or are ya waiting on someone?” He asked while reaching for another menu.
   â€œJust me for tonight, Mr…”
   â€œOh right! Hi! My name is Tim and I’ll be your server this evening. Please follow me to your table.” He said as he turned his heels and set off at a quick pace. “We just opened last week so it’s been pretty slow. If you know what you’d like to order I can get it started right away and I can even have my mom bring you a drink from the bar.”
   Wow, this kid was no bull right from the start. Thumbs up in my book! “Well Mr. Tim I suppose I’ll have a steak, rare, and a Coor’s Light. How’s that sound?” I said with a wink. He paled a bit and was obviously nervous, and took off to put my order in with the cook. Sometimes I forget that manners, especially old manners are uncommon and often deemed as extremely creepy in places like New York City. I half-expected his mother to throw my beer in my face and kick me out.
   She showed up, soon enough and beer in hand. The condensation dripping down the side of the can and the frosted look of the glass in her other hand told me this was going to be one cold and tasty beer! There's not a really good chance of getting beer in my face if she's going through the trouble of bringing me a frosted glass. Good thing too. I don’t think Brother Wolf would appreciate the irony of being hit by a Silver Bullet.
   â€œCoors’s Light, right?” She asked as she held up the can, the same toothy smile as her son flashed across her lips. She wore a very attractive pink top and a medium length black skirt. She definitely didn’t get much sun, but her pale skin complimented her dark hair nicely. She wore it up in a bun but a few strands fell gracefully on each side of her face, framing it. At my wink she poured it into the glass and the sound was just pure delight! Nothing else could have sounded sweeter at that exact moment.
   â€œAye. There’s nothing better after a long day’s work than a cold beer brought to you by a true beauty.” I said holding it up to her in cheers and taking that first sweet sip. Her eyebrow rose slightly as she asked, “You’re not from around here are you?” This is my favorite question ever, and I get it asked often. The reaction of people’s faces usually asked the unspoken question, “Then why do you sound Irish?”
   â€œNo, Vermont, actually.” I answered and waited for the typical reaction, to which I was disappointed and surprised at the same time. “Interesting. Let Timmy know if you’ll want another beer.” She disappeared in the back, but shortly after Mr. Tim showed up with a steaming plate and set it in front of me. Holy Heaven of Yum! Sitting in front of me was a rare steak, still bleeding, along with roasted potatoes and steamed green beans with yellow squash.
   â€œHere ya go, Mister. Enjoy!” He flashed me the toothy grin again before he turned on his heel. “I’ve got to finish my homework but if you need anything my mom should be by soon.” And he took off. Let’s summarize! Mom brings beer and says Timmy will take care of me. Tim brings gorgeous food. Says Mom will take care of me. Hungry wolf has rare steak and beer so who gives a damn? Not me!
   You’ll have to excuse the pun but cliché sayings are cliché saying because they work: I wolfed down my food like a ravenous animal and downed my beer like it was the last one on Earth, flipped a $20 on the table and started my way home, feeling much better. Even Brother Wolf was wagging his tail. But that didn’t last long as soon as I remembered why I walk this way home.
   I really could save a lot of time walking directly home, but I tried that once and got a very strange scent coming from the rooftops. That, along with the very heavy uneasy feeling of not being welcome, caused me to rethink my route home, so I walk a few blocks out of the way. It’s okay most of the time, but tonight was different. The uneasy feeling never really went away even when I got onto my street and that strange scent came to me every so often when the wind blew across my back. Maybe it would be safer to not go home for another few hours, but I didn’t care. I wanted a shower. I wanted my violin. I wanted my pillow.
   I must have really been out of it because as I climbed the steps to my building I ran into a familiar face. Usually I smell someone before I see them. She happen to be dressed in a very sexy white dress, stiletto heels, and her hair was flowing down her shoulders. Charlotte. How the hell did she get ready so fast? “I thought you were ‘tucking in’ early?” She leaned against the railing and placed her manicured nails across her hip as if she were posing for a photograph.

   Son of a bitch.