Come See About Me by Martin C. K. Kelly

Author:Martin, C. K. Kelly [Martin, C. K. Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-06-12T04:00:00+00:00

Since I don’t remember his apartment number I can’t stick the note in the mail, but I know I’d be able to find my way to his suite again, and so just before I go to work I shove the note into an envelope, take a detour over to the square and loiter around outside Liam’s building, pretending to look for my keys. Three minutes later a stylish forty-something blond teeters by on spiky heels and swipes her way into the building.

I follow her through the front door and into the elevator where she presses four and I press three. Then I wind my way around the third floor hallway and stop at the door that I’m at least eighty percent sure is Liam’s. Apartment 306. I don’t want to run into him so I have to be quick. I shove the envelope into the space between the door and its frame. Its conspicuous appearance makes me frown but there’s a wooden lip attached to the bottom of the door that prevents even the thinnest of envelopes from being shoved underneath. I flee the area, leaving the conspicuous note jutting out of the doorframe, not sure why I feel like a junior high kid with an awkward crush when the note seemed like a perfectly mature idea when I wrote it.

But my shift at O’Keefe’s soon distracts me. The regulars are beginning to like me, I think. I’ve been trying to watch British TV shows whenever I stumble across them. Mostly Coronation Street, but also Robin Hood and an old seventies show called Rising Damp that airs in the middle of the night. This afternoon Simon and Louise bring in a collection of their own DVDs to lend me—A Touch of Frost, Spooks, Life on Mars (which Simon assures me is the much superior original British version), As Time Goes By, Cracker and Little Britain. It won’t be long until I’m a bona fide expert on British and Irish sensibilities. I’ve been buying chocolates and crisps now and then too, although I don’t really have a sweet tooth and often can’t finish the chocolate bars.

When I return home at the end of the day I decide it’s time to sample the Bourbon creams Liam bought me weeks ago. My mouth doesn’t feel entirely back to normal yet, and I still have to make that crown appointment, so I dip the cookie in milk and then chew, carefully, on the other side of my mouth. The taste is notably chocolaty, but there’s something more to it that I can’t pinpoint and reading the list of ingredients doesn’t help. I polish off another two cookies while watching Simon and Louise’s copy of Spooks, a series about British secret agents. The show’s intelligent and riveting, a bit like 24 but with more interesting accents and a London backdrop. I watch four and a half episodes before I begin to nod off on the couch and decide to take myself up to bed and save Armstrong from a night of wheel obsessing.

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