Turn Signal

I would hit the same fast food drive-through every morning at 6 a.m. Everyday, Monday thru Friday and sometimes on Saturday. A coffee and English muffin. It was the one so-called luxury I would allow myself. In pursuit of my dream to become a world-renowned architect, after graduation from college I took a drafting position at a very prestigious architectural firm. It was a salaried position. A very low salary. I knew where every penny went. And every day four-hundred-twenty-seven of them went to the fast food drive-through.

I would tell myself I did it for my one luxury, but maybe it was because, nine times out of ten, the person at the window was this same cute boy. He had to be more than a boy because he wore a manager’s shirt, but he still seemed so young. He had wavy dark brown hair and a wonderful smile that I was sure lit up any room he was in. I knew that smile was a light in my lonely world, so how much more must it be face-to-face in the same room? Then one day when I reached into the bag to fish around for the muffin, the texture of one of the napkins was different. More like the paper of the receipt, but bigger in size. I pulled it out to discover it was a folded hand-written note.

"Dear Coffee and English Muffin,

I love you. Or, at least I think I do and I would like the chance to find out for sure. I see you every morning and know you are hard-working and dedicated at whatever it is that you do. It must be something special because I see intelligence in your face. I want to find out what it is that drives you so hard. When I look at your beautiful smile I see warmth and generosity and dream that smile is for me. If there is no one special in your life, I would like the opportunity to be that man.

We open at 5:30 in the morning. Please consider coming into the lobby tomorrow morning and let me buy your breakfast. I would love the chance to just know your name. If I never see you again or you only come through the drive-through, you at least will not be the chance I didn’t take.

Sincerely,
Jason"

I was grateful I was stopped in the parking lot of my office building because I was so stunned I couldn’t breathe. This was so outside my realm of experience. I was used to boys being so shy they were afraid to speak to me or so bold they were obnoxious. This was so sweet, eloquent, and genuine. Now what? I sat in my car with the windows down, enjoyed the morning breeze and pondered the whole situation as I finished my coffee and muffin. Every song on the radio seemed to be about love gone wrong in some fashion. My parents were divorced by this time. My best friend had been married and divorced already. She had a child and problems getting child support. I had managed to avoid the whole personal relationship scene by being a dedicated student and busy employee. But, even I had begun to realize that excuse was worn thin.

That time of year the sun was full up as I made the trek into the building. The weather forecast had called for it to be hot and the temperature had already proved the prognostication to be correct. At least that was how I explained my sweaty state as I entered the blissful air-conditioning of the office. The usual ordered chaos took over as I turned on the equipment at my work station and found my way to the break room for the first company provided cup of coffee of the day.

I couldn’t think straight all day.

We were up against a tight deadline, so my challenge concentrating brought on a few cross glances from co-workers. We met the goals for the day and I left the building two hours later than usual; which was two hours later than bankers’. Twilight was showing its last hoorah and the planets with their usual charade as stars accompanied the moon as they stood vigil over my walk to the car. The note from Jason still lay on the front seat as if to prove that I didn’t just make it all up.

The nightly arrival home had become a repeating reminder of my choices to leave not only my parents’ house, but the town I grew up in. And not just leave, but move a thousand miles away. As I unlocked the front door I was once again relieved I had taken to keeping the light on over the stove all the time just so the place wouldn’t be completely dark at whatever time I managed to make it home. Most people get a dog or a cat to take the edge off of living alone. I didn’t feel like I could get a pet because it would be left alone all the time and that didn’t seem right to inflict on a creature who didn’t have a say in the situation.

I added that day’s mail to the pile that would wait until Sunday and put a frozen dinner in the microwave. For a moment I was wishful of the family dinners as a kid. Back then I hated having to leave my friends at play outside to be forced to come in and eat green beans and meat loaf. But, my mom and dad were there with my brother and sister and the last thing I ever was, was lonely. As I changed clothes straight from work clothes to sleeping clothes, I couldn’t remember the last time I shared a meal that wasn’t lunch at work or with my best friend.

As the signal from the microwave in the kitchen reminded me that my dinner was ready, I stopped at my bedside table and set the alarm to wake me thirty minutes earlier the next morning.