Story #1

Sipping my white caramel latte, I was startled out of my 'zone' when my cell phone buzzed in my bag. Opening the front flap and digging around for a moment, I found it, pulled it out, and glanced at the caller ID. My best friend Brooklyn's face smiled up at me as her favorite song played softly through my phone's speakers. Surprised that she was awake, as it was only 7:30 AM, I tapped the Answer button.

"Hey Brooklyn. What's up?"

"Hey Annabelle! Let me guess, you're at CafAroma, aren't you! As usual! Come on, girl, you're not going to meet any hot guys there!"

I sighed to myself. CafAroma is my favorite coffee shop, and it just happens to be right around the corner from our apartment building. I come here almost every day to write, relax, and drink a delicious cup of coffee. I love it here. Brooklyn doesn't understand how I can just sit here,'doing nothing, by myself' for hours at a time. She loves to talk, and can't stand to go 5 minutes without someone to talk to or something to keep her occupied. Particularly boys. That's another way that we are different from each other. She likes boys way too much, and thinks I'm crazy for not having a boyfriend, or at least a 'boy toy' as she puts it.

"Yes, Brook, I am at CafAroma. I'm working on my story. Remember? I'm writing a piece for the paper about High Schools in the city. About how they don't have enough resources for the students these days. Can you believe that there are only..."

"Yeah, wow, that's crazy... Anyway, what are you doing later?" She interrupted me. Brooklyn is my best friend, and totally supports me in whatever I do, especially wanting to be a writer, but she gets bored easily when I start talking about my subjects. If it doesn't have to do with boys, parties, or shopping, she tends to tune out quickly.

"Brook, it's Friday. You know I have to work." I answered her.

"What kind of loser works on Friday nights?" She whined.

"The kind that needs to pay rent. I always work Friday nights." I reminded her, unoffended.

"Yeah, because nobody else wants to." She replied, still pouting.

I work full time at the City Medical Center as a receptionist. It pays the bills... sort of. Plus, it's nice because I work Monday through Friday and get weekends off to focus on my real passion: writing. I write a small weekly column for a little known newspaper here in Manhattan called The Manhattan Word.

"I meant later, after work. Do you wanna go out to that new dance club opening with me?" Somehow Brooklyn always managed to know anytime a new place opened up in the city, and somehow she always had a connection (some guy she was sleeping with) to get us in.

"I don't know, Brook... I was thinking about just staying in tonight. I have a deadline on Monday and have a lot of work to do. I was really hoping to relax and get some work done this weekend."

"Says my boring, workaholic best friend. Come on, Anna, you act like you're old! You're only twenty-four. You're supposed to be partying 'till all hours of the night, making irresponsible decisions, and not staying home alone on a Friday night! You're going with me. Case closed. You're gonna have a blast, like you always do when you're out with me."

"Oh yeah, 'cuz dragging you're drunk ass home is sooo much fun...." I said sarcastically. "Even more fun when you ditch me for some guy you just met and me looking for you for an hour before finding out that you left."

"I won't ditch you. We'll both find guys and bring them home." She said smugly.

"Haha, not happening, nice try though." I laughed humorlessly.

"Okay, okay! I'm just giving you shit. Damn, Anna, can't you take a joke these days? I promise, I won't ditch you! Honestly! Tonight is going to be about us girls going out and having fun. Dancing, drinking, karaoke, fun! I pinky swear!" I could just imagine her eyes lighting up as she talked about our prospective night out.

"Hahaha okay, fine. Since you pinky swore." We've made 'pinky-swears' since we were about eight years old. I could always tell that she either really wanted something, or that she was very serious when she pinky- swore. "But I'm going to hold you to that, just us girls!" I answered with a sigh. She always got her way. I would just have to try not to stay out too late and get working on my piece first thing tomorrow morning... and drink a lot of coffee.

"Yay! Thank you! Oh, I'm so excited! I have to figure out what I'm going to wear! Okay, so I'll be home when you get off work and we can get ready. What am I going to wear? What are you going to wear?!?! Oh my gosh, we don't have very much time to plan and get ready! Can you get off early?" The guy sitting next to me was giving me a dirty look because he could hear her yelling through the phone. I smiled sheepishly at him and turned the other way.

"Ok, Brooklyn, you really need to calm down. People are staring at me. I will see you when I get home tonight. I'll get dressed real quick then we can grab something to eat on the way. Okay? Talk to you later!" I smiled as I hung up; I could still hear her yelling at me. As her picture disappeared and the picture of my nephew, Landon, appeared on the screen, I noticed the time. Crap! I thought, I only have twenty minutes to get to work! I better move! I unplugged my laptop and slid it into my bag, drank down the rest of my latte, and threw away the empty cup as I ran out the door to catch the bus.

"I just don't understand why you can't get me in to see my doctor sooner!" Mr. Day, one of my regular patients, yelled angrily at me through the phone. Martin Day was an impatient, grumpy old man that I had to deal with on regular basis at the clinic. Although he can be very tough to get along with, I always make an effort to be friendly towards him. I know that Mr. Day was one of the nicest, kindest, most caring people you could meet until his wife passed away two years ago. Since then, he had changed. Now he is a man who seems lost in this world, after all, he had lost his entire world. One thing that I have learned while working with people, particularly in healthcare, is that everyone is fighting a battle, whether they had a bad day at work, or maybe they are fighting some sort of sickness, or have lost a loved one, we never know what may be going on. People can be nasty and mean, and while there is no excuse for that, they may secretly have something going on in their life that you couldn't begin to understand.

"I just don't feel good." Martin said, sounding defeated, bringing me back from my thoughts.

"I'm very sorry Mr. Day. I understand. I know you're not feeling good, and I am going to do my best to get you seen and feeling better. However, your doctor is on vacation. Could I please schedule you with Dr. Jones this afternoon? She would be more than willing to see you while your doctor is away. Maybe she can help." I offered.

"Okay, I suppose. I guess I can see her. Thank you." He grumbled.

"You're very welcome. We will see you this morning at 10:15, okay? I hope you get to feeling better."

"Okay. Bye now."

"Goodbye, Mr. Day." I hung up with a sad sigh. I couldn't even imagine what that poor man has gone through the last couple of years.

My thoughts were cut short as a woman came crashing through the door screaming, "It hurts! Oh it hurts! Please help me!"

I stood up and hurried around my desk to the other side of the counter to help the woman into a chair.

"Hold on ma'am. Sit down here and let me call a nurse to come see you right away." I tried to be calm as I lowered her into a chair and turned towards the nurses area.

"It hurts! My stomach! I'm dying!" She wailed, holding her hands to her right abdomen.

Uh oh, I thought, could it be appendicitis?

Jennifer, one of the nurses, came rushing up from the nurses' break room just as I opened the door, having heard the ruckus. We both headed back to the front, as I briefed her on what I suspected.

"Yep," Jennifer said to the woman, "I'd say it may be your appendix. We need to get you to see the doctor right away. Annabelle, could you please go fetch us a wheelchair? I will take her to exam room #4. Please page Dr. Harrington and ask him to come take a look immediately."

I brought a wheelchair from the front lobby and watched as Jennifer helped the patient from her chair to the wheelchair and wheeled her back towards the exam rooms. I turned around to get on the phone and call Dr. Harrington in his office, but before I was able to pick it up, a mother and her sick child came walking in and the phone started ringing again. I could already tell that it was going to be a busy day.

At 9:15 that night, Brooklyn and I stepped out the front door of our apartment into the warm city night. The air was buzzing with the excitement of New York City nightlife; sirens wailed in the distance, people were bustling to and from their busy lives; some ending their day, while others were just beginning. I loved the smell of the city! Hints of both enticing and discusting smells floated through the air, from fried chicken, roses, and fresh laundry, to garbage, exhaust, and sewer. Down around the corner, across the street from CafAroma, the scent of old grease wafted out of a dingy burger joint. As we crossed the street to the next block on our way to hail a cab, we heard a woman yelling in spanish; a little kid crying; classical music playing from a boom box while an old man sat on the steps of his building getting high. You never knew what you might encounter in this city, and that was just one of many reasons why I was in love with it!

"So. Are you going to dance with someone special tonight?" Brooklyn asked with a smirk on her face.

"Yeah. You." I answered with a smirk.

"You know that's not what I was talking about. Of course you're going to dance with me. I meant are you going to dance with any hot guys?" I stopped and looked at her as she stepped out and flagged down a cab. She always managed to get a cab right away. Damn her long legs and perfect figure. The only way I could get anyone to stop was by tripping and falling into the street. I was cursed by my klutziness.

"What happened to girls night? Huh? Or was that just a ruse to get me out of the apartment?" I narrowed my eyes at her, climbing into the cab.

"No, of course not, Anna! Tonight it's just you and me, chica. Take us to the new Club Tropica please. In the Meat-Packing District." She added to the cabbie, hardly taking a breath in between. "Of course, I may grind up on a few guys, here and there... Hey! I can't waste looking this good and not use it to my advantage! I'm gonna get us a few free drinks tonight!" She added defensively when I glared at her. I laughed and rolled my eyes. Brooklyn was always so sure of herself. But of course, she was right, too. My best friend was gorgeous. She always had guys following her around, begging for her attention. So annoying.

"Oh my god, do you think Shaun will be there? I hope so! We were sleeping together a few months ago, and let me tell you, he was good! And huge! But then he got this girlfriend, and stopped answering my calls. But last I heard, they were broken up. And what about Barry? Oh my god....." She rambled on throughout the entire cab ride to the club. I tuned her out and watched the city go by until we were a few blocks away, as close as the cab driver could possibly get to drop us off. We paid him and stepped out of the car into the thick throngs of people who were also making their way to the new club. It took us awhile to get to the front door where we stood for another half hour or so before we finally got inside. It was incredible! The theme was tropical; there were huge palm trees everywhere, with hammocks strung up between them. Waiters and waitresses in thongs, speedos, and bikinis walked around with trays of mojitos, pina coladas, and other fruity tropical drinks. Reggaeton blared from the speakers and hordes of people, all dressed skimpily, danced and moved to the music. Over to the right was a gigantic built-in pool with a floating bar on one side and a volleyball net with a high-energy game going on. Brooklyn's eyes were as big as beach balls as she looked around, then promptly grabbed my hand and dragged me to the dance floor.