The Department Store Girl

One hand tumbled the lighter on the arm of the chair while the intermittent buzz of the neon sign just outside my window weighed heavy on my heart.

“What was it?” I thought. That look she had given me from across the department store counter. Her eyes bore sad remnants of love gone awry, yet in a way, ached to be held the way she always wanted. In the scheme of things to imagine only myself, without her, seems crazy, for you invade the space in my mind. The space that encompasses true joy, true passion and a heartfelt desire to see life through adventurous eyes, a space of almost perfect elegance. My mind raced, believing people had just heard my panic-stricken thoughts. As the line had grown shorter, I had fumbled for my little black book to write down her name that was scribbled on her name tag, so as not to get caught. Like coming out of a lucid dream, the fan in the room faded my mental movie into oblivion and the noise from the street below, crept back into the room. And my cigarette was done.

The sudden jolt of the alarm going off in the small hours of the morning, broke my pensive thought. A list of the day’s itinerary had begun to flood in, but I managed to stave them off for a brief moment. ‘Clair’, the scribbled name read on her tag. I had seen her come and go for some time, not knowing she worked there until now. Every time losing courage to say hello, whenever I’d see her there.

It wasn’t until the days end, as I walked home from work passing through the plaza, an endless strip of post-70s retail, that I passed an old record shop I had frequented back in the day, that I’d put two and two together. In the window, faded from the sun, was an old Gilbert O’Sullivan record, amongst others, and the cover said “with the newest hit ‘Clair’”. I hadn’t remembered the lyrics of the song, but the opening few words made me think of her. “Clair, the moment I met you, I swear”. I chuckled, looking in at the record in the store front and my reflection at the same time. I shook my head, continuing on with a serendipitous mind.

I went home, luckily only a few doors down, feeling I needed time to find an excuse to hit the department store. I knew that beacon of home anywhere, above ‘Wickman’s Diner’, all in neon, still buzzing away in the light of the day. I stopped outside to finish my smoke, before heading upstairs. A familiar waitress waved through the diner’s window, while I stood there basking in the sun. Stuck in time it seemed, even if for a brief moment of nostalgia, thinking of opening day, 1955.

Standing at the top of the creaky stairs in front of my apartment, forgetting I had left the jazz station on earlier, my mind was consumed by a list of miscellaneous random items I could pass off as needed at the department store. I had no idea what I was going to say, let alone even know she was there.

Anxiety tried to creep in, but the oscillating of the fan passing my face felt good enough to dissipate any such thought of malaise. I headed back out and down toward the far end of the plaza where the department store was, thoughts racing as to what I’d say. Laughing to myself, thinking it was the heat of the day, or shear fright that was beading the sweat on my forehead. With that thought, the word ‘ENTER’ was in full view. I can’t believe I had walked past 100 feet of glass without looking in. ‘ENTER’ disappeared with a swing of the door. I made my way in; the air con was a relief.

I quickly scanned the cash outs and didn’t see her. Feeling a little deflated and morose, I looked down at my list of sundries and grabbed a basket. The feeling of needing to leave overcame me and I put the basket back, grabbing a magazine of inconsequence instead, and made my way to the express check out.

In line I flipped through the pages with a sigh, moving like a robot it seemed to the conveyor. It was like time had stood still for a moment, as I heard the words “Is that it?”. I looked up to a smiling face and a name tag that read ‘Clair’. “Um, no, I’ll take a scratch and win”. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She slid the tickets out for me for a random selection and as I looked up, our eyes met. She was biting her lower lip, grinning as she began to say “you’re always my last customer”. Feeling stunned, as I scratched the ticket, she said “you must have known by now, I’ve liked you for a while”. Looking up I said “and here I was just looking for something to say”. We both laughed. I finished scratching the ticket. “You’re not going to believe this, I just won $20,000.” Laughing out loud, I said “I guess dinners on me”.

Written by Dave Luno