Paying for College - The Novel
Page 25
Chapter 12
Brothers, I returned to the depressing college town by nightfall feeling as if someone took a pin and popped my balloon world. I called Phaedra several times, but the girl never returned my phone calls.
I know she loves unique knickknacks, so I swallowed my pride and rode a broken down city bus to get to the mall on the other side town, if you can call it a mall – a small collection of stores connected together by a covered walkway with the food court thrown in the center.
I wandered into the mall and spotted a small jewelry store with two rolls of glass cases. I walked up and down the aisles and glanced at the glittering gems.
The saleswoman asked, “Do you need any help, sir?”
“Yes, mam. Where do you keep the engagement rings?”
The saleswoman walked to one section of the glass case while I met her there on the other side.
I hunched over to examine the different rings – some were white while others were gold.
I whistled, “Wow. Why are the white rings much more expensive than the gold ones?”
“That’s white gold.”
“Sounds cool.” Then I scratched my chin and thought about it and asked, “But I thought gold was an element. How could an element be two different colors?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll ask the manager when he comes in.”
I scanned the price tags ranging from $299 to $3,000.
I looked up at the saleswoman, “Thank you, but I’m not sure my relationship is quite there for an engagement ring.”
I turned to leave.
“You can always buy your special someone a promise ring.”
I stopped and looked at her again, “A promise ring? What’s that?”
“A promise to commit to her.”
“You mean like a pre-engagement ring before the engagement ring?”
“Yes, something like that. It’s the new fad.”
I shook my head no, “I’m a traditional guy. I’ll be back to buy that ring when the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. Thank you.” I walked out of the store, shaking my head back and forth.
I walked around the mall and stopped at the antique relic store. Phaedra kept talking about all the cool stuff the store sells.
I walked along the first row and looked at the antique wooden desks, dressers, and armchairs. I didn’t think a piece of furniture would spruce up her life, so I walked along the second row. Plenty of vintage stuff – old tea, coffee, and cracker tin containers, stained coffee mugs and teacups, scratched silver trays, and so on and so on. I shook my head. I knew Phaedra drank plenty of tea and coffee, but I never saw her make any. She always drank the expensive stuff at the coffee shops.
Finally, I wandered to the third row and, brothers, right at the end, I spotted old record albums wrapped in thick plastic grouped in large racks. I sprinted over to the racks and started browsing. I saw AC/DC, Aerosmith, Boston…as I flipped through the first stack. Some albums were in mint condition while other album covers looked faded and worn. I scooted over to the next stack and browsed through the vintage music and spotted names I didn’t recognize. I went through another stack – Pink Floyd, Styx, and Yes. I was about to leave when I spotted the small 45s – you know the little records with one song on each side – the kind my mom and dad grew up on. Of course, don’t forget to change the speed on the record player – otherwise the music comes out slowly as if the words sing slower. Then I saw the name – Beatles printed on the sleeve with a picture with the song ‘Can’t buy me love.’
I picked it up.
The cashier, a middle-aged Asian guy, looked over and said, “Be careful. That one expensive.” Then he pointed at a sign – ‘Nice to see, nice to hold. Once broken, considered sold.’
I looked at the price tag and whistled. Then I looked at the cashier, “Does this thing actually cost a thousand dollars?
“Yes. Uh original. And extremely rare.”
I walked to the cashier’s counter. “I’m a student. Do you offer any student discounts?”
The cashier laughed. “Sorry. No student discount. You pay full price.”
“C’mon. This really can’t be worth a thousand bucks.”
“Yes. It really worth that much.”
“What if I give you nine hundred for it?”
The cashier shook his head no. “Come. Follow me.”
I followed the owner to his small office at the back of the store.
We walked in. He picked up a wooden picture frame with a glass front from a shelf, “Free picture frame.”
“That’s it. I only get a free picture frame?”
“You don’t listen to record. Record a collector item.”
I thought about it and looked around his office until I spotted the college degrees hanging on the wall. I have to ask, “You really have a master’s degree in chemical engineering?”
The cashier nodded yes.
“And you work here?”
Cashier nodded yes again and added, “Proprietor.”
Brothers, what could I say? I’m going to college so I wouldn’t have to work in a store or fast food restaurant. Then I felt sorry for the unfortunate guy, “Okay, I’ll take it.”
I handed the record to the cashier.
He placed the record on the desk and dissembled the picture frame. Like a surgeon returning an organ to the patient, the cashier centered the album on the glass. Then he covered the back with a black felt cloth and secured the back picture frame to it.
I gasped when he flipped the frame over. It looked beautiful, although no one would ever hear the Beatles sing this song.
We returned to the front counter, and I pulled out a stack of bills and counted out one thousand dollars.
The cashier said, “Thank you. Please return again.” Then he wrapped bubble film around the picture frame and stuck it into a plastic bag.
My stomach started growling, so I went for a hamburger and fries at the food court. Brothers, there I am, sitting there and savoring every juicy bite of a foot high burger with a juicy patty covered with cheese and topped with thick layers of tomatoes, thick pickles, lettuce, and sliced red onions. Then I spotted the Dean sitting across from me eating a hamburger too.
He looked up and noticed me.
I looked down again and bit into my burger and pretended I didn’t see him.
Finishing his meal, the Dean grabbed a napkin, wiped the greasy stains off his lips, crumpled the napkin and tossed it onto his tray. Then he left his tray and leftover food containers on the table and walked away.
How rude, I thought. Bastinado, such he is. I guess he’s used to people cleaning up after him.
I lowered my head and hoped he didn’t spot me. I even placed my right elbow on the table and covered the right side of my face with my hand as I munched on my burger with my other hand.
I looked at my tray, grabbed a French fry and drenched it in ketchup, and plopped it into my mouth.
“Jax, I presumed.”
I dropped my hands under the table and looked up feigning surprise while I quickly chewed that French fry.
The Dean smiled.
Swallowing my food, I answered, “You presumed correctly.”
“I hope you accept my apologies, young man. How do you say it? I think we got off on the wrong proverbial foot the other night at the honor’s banquet.”
I raised my eyebrows and widened my eyes while my jaw almost hit the ground. “Really?” I asked.
“Let bygones be bygones.”
“Okay. This is certainly good news. I agree. Let bygones be bygones.”
“Shall we dispense with the pleasantries and jump right to business.”
I nodded my head in agreement.
“I am throwing a humble social gathering on Saturday for the elite business students and professors. It shall be my pleasure if you can honor us with your presence.”
“That sounds great. Let me check my schedule, but I think I’m free on Saturday night.”
“Outstanding. Do you know the address of my residence?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then I should expect you around eight.”
“I’ll be there.”
The Dean walked away, and I returned to my burger and fries. Perhaps, the Dean had changed his mind about me. I knew I would win him over, eventually.