Clandestine meeting with x. At my parents' house, in my upstairs bedroom. x is eager to fool around, I grab her face and kiss it but mouths are dry and parched and is not as enjoyable as we'd hoped, for the moment. She gets up, we begin to discuss fear of discovery, but she leaves bedroom door open and smiles; seems she likes the danger. I agree we would have good warning if someone comes through the front door, but I also realize that we won't know who it is at the time - it could be my parents. She admires the walls and moldings. I peer out window (it is nighttime) and indeed my parents are coming up the driveway, back from store. There are maybe 3 large dark dogs out there too, guarding, they bark but do not attack.
Fragment where my bedroom is actually situated over a piano store in a mall. The idea is that I would hear soft classical piano music if someone were playing. The name of the store is French, possibly La Ciel.
I need some type of cover for this whole secret, and I end up at Borders Books. I am filling out the job application as part of my "cover"; I have the option to be "the boss." The application forces me to list the first 5 things I would do as boss. My first answer is a web site address, similar to this blog site's address but with "newyork" in there somewhere. Second, I write I would immediately get to know the store layout, new store policies.
Kay is working at the store. She is approaching the desk and muttering to herself, disgusted by the management. She makes some comment to the effect that they could lose control of their bodily functions and not even notice, "just keep going." A tall male who is in charge sees me and starts ordering me around; it appears, even as I hold the application, I am already hired and on the schedule. He not-so-gently reminds me that on the schedule I am supposed to be back up at this desk every 6 minutes. I'm thinking that is the most outrageously stupid way of scheduling people because they won't be able to get anything else done. Every 6 minutes?
This turns into complete disgust with the place and I tear up the application and make some loud negative comments. I walk towards the main entrance to leave. I see Tom P working there and I feel bad for him, for what everyone goes through there. I am almost out but there are these step-type display shelves blocking the exits. I remember that they were working on the entrance and that only the side entrances are open. But my defiant energy is in this direction and so I walk up the steps and force the large wooden doors open. There are some tables on the outside but they are easily moved and I exit through the crack on top of them. I am very proud that I did this, leave in the physical manner in which I chose, in a rebellious manner that no one else had before, a "working outside the box" feeling but exaggerated into a near-miracle.
