drop 2
Dante fumbles into the dim apartment with plastic bags hanging from his arms and briefcase barely clinging to his fingers. He remembers why he prefers take-out. The first time he went shopping alone was disastrous and made the mistake of going on an empty stomach. Every aisle he went down he had to grab something even if it wasn’t needed. Dante forgot that he didn’t have a car to haul it all back. He was at the check-out line when this grand epiphany struck him. Now, instead of putting useless items back on the shelf, he decided he was capable of taking it all on the bus.
What he didn’t take into account was the number of people present on the ride home. He calculated for an easy trip home with his numerous bags in one seat and his behind in another. That day he managed to hit a peak hour. It seemed like everyone and their mother decided to ride the bus. Dante had to stand, maintain his balance, and keep his precious supplies in check. How lucky it was for Dante that it was a new driver.
This new driver was not completely comfortable with the brakes. Every time he braked, everyone in the bus felt it and many were not prepared for it. Cans, fruits, vegetables, and anything that could move would sneak out of the bags and rolled passed feet and other bags.
Dante would try to secure some bags to one of the poles. When that was done, he tried to make his way to the rebellious produce, trying to slide pass passengers and their feet. Sometimes he would get his items mixed with the various pieces of trash. Some riders were kind enough to help round up what they could. When he got home, he looked over the mess he gathered from the bus. An orange found two pieces of gum. The shaving cream can had an old Barney sticker on it. Dante wondered where on the bus that came from.
As he stocks the fridge, it dawns on him that dinner time is around the corner. He glances over at the bar, noticing the untouched money. Unless Rem consulted Martha Stewart on the fine cooking of pickles or has a secret stash of food, she has not eaten all day. This leaves Dante with the dilemma of making dinner. After all that shopping and the long day of testing, Dante did not want to cook or clean the mess afterwards. Another reason why take-out rules over the empty kitchen. Once again he consults the great metal tablet of eatery. The tablet proclaims that the two will dine on pizza tonight.
* * *
Dante’s high school self trickles into his thoughts. That girl locked herself in your room. This is so unfair. Put an end to it. Remember man, she hasn’t eaten all day. Make her work for it! Of course, it isn’t right to starve a child, but she seems older, but she is his responsibility and guest.
During the wait for the pizza, Dante searches the kitchen junk drawer. Junk drawers are all the same in a way. People toss extra or found items into the drawer and forget about it. When it’s time to look for something, the first place anyone goes is the junk drawer. With all the mess of accumulated items, it becomes a hassle to find anything. Dante manages to find what he is looking for.
After the arrival of the pizza, Dante begins to construct plate for Rem. Unlike the night before, where he gave the food without a fight, tonight he will have a little fun with Rem. Dante punches a hole into the paper plate and threads a line of string into it. He tests it on the coffee table, pulling slow, then faster until he gets a good feel for it. Dante wants to be sure it moves smoothly for Rem, testing it once more on the carpet.
He places a large slice of pepperoni-sausage pizza onto to the plate, making certain the end covers the hole. Dante tries not to chuckle at his meager prank as it brings back fond memories of high school. He knocks on the door and scuttles back to the couch.
“Rem, there’s pizza. Same place as yesterday.”
The door opens and a hand reaches out. As the hand is about to touch the plate, Dante gives the sting a light tug, pulling the plate away from the hand. Rem grabs carpet, but tries again. Dante pulls it, forcing the arm to reach further out of the doorway. Rem tries once more, but Dante pulls it just out of reach.
She slams the door. “Is this how you treat your guests?”
“Is this how you treat your host?” Dante answers with a smirk.
“That’s two different things!”
“I don’t think it is.”
“How so?”
“My room, your food.”
“So you’re gonna starve me out? I’m sure grandpa would like to hear that.”
“He’d laugh, I’d bet.”
What he didn’t take into account was the number of people present on the ride home. He calculated for an easy trip home with his numerous bags in one seat and his behind in another. That day he managed to hit a peak hour. It seemed like everyone and their mother decided to ride the bus. Dante had to stand, maintain his balance, and keep his precious supplies in check. How lucky it was for Dante that it was a new driver.
This new driver was not completely comfortable with the brakes. Every time he braked, everyone in the bus felt it and many were not prepared for it. Cans, fruits, vegetables, and anything that could move would sneak out of the bags and rolled passed feet and other bags.
Dante would try to secure some bags to one of the poles. When that was done, he tried to make his way to the rebellious produce, trying to slide pass passengers and their feet. Sometimes he would get his items mixed with the various pieces of trash. Some riders were kind enough to help round up what they could. When he got home, he looked over the mess he gathered from the bus. An orange found two pieces of gum. The shaving cream can had an old Barney sticker on it. Dante wondered where on the bus that came from.
As he stocks the fridge, it dawns on him that dinner time is around the corner. He glances over at the bar, noticing the untouched money. Unless Rem consulted Martha Stewart on the fine cooking of pickles or has a secret stash of food, she has not eaten all day. This leaves Dante with the dilemma of making dinner. After all that shopping and the long day of testing, Dante did not want to cook or clean the mess afterwards. Another reason why take-out rules over the empty kitchen. Once again he consults the great metal tablet of eatery. The tablet proclaims that the two will dine on pizza tonight.
* * *
Dante’s high school self trickles into his thoughts. That girl locked herself in your room. This is so unfair. Put an end to it. Remember man, she hasn’t eaten all day. Make her work for it! Of course, it isn’t right to starve a child, but she seems older, but she is his responsibility and guest.
During the wait for the pizza, Dante searches the kitchen junk drawer. Junk drawers are all the same in a way. People toss extra or found items into the drawer and forget about it. When it’s time to look for something, the first place anyone goes is the junk drawer. With all the mess of accumulated items, it becomes a hassle to find anything. Dante manages to find what he is looking for.
After the arrival of the pizza, Dante begins to construct plate for Rem. Unlike the night before, where he gave the food without a fight, tonight he will have a little fun with Rem. Dante punches a hole into the paper plate and threads a line of string into it. He tests it on the coffee table, pulling slow, then faster until he gets a good feel for it. Dante wants to be sure it moves smoothly for Rem, testing it once more on the carpet.
He places a large slice of pepperoni-sausage pizza onto to the plate, making certain the end covers the hole. Dante tries not to chuckle at his meager prank as it brings back fond memories of high school. He knocks on the door and scuttles back to the couch.
“Rem, there’s pizza. Same place as yesterday.”
The door opens and a hand reaches out. As the hand is about to touch the plate, Dante gives the sting a light tug, pulling the plate away from the hand. Rem grabs carpet, but tries again. Dante pulls it, forcing the arm to reach further out of the doorway. Rem tries once more, but Dante pulls it just out of reach.
She slams the door. “Is this how you treat your guests?”
“Is this how you treat your host?” Dante answers with a smirk.
“That’s two different things!”
“I don’t think it is.”
“How so?”
“My room, your food.”
“So you’re gonna starve me out? I’m sure grandpa would like to hear that.”
“He’d laugh, I’d bet.”