Ealain

Mr. D called this past Saturday and talked to R. He said he’d be back this week (he extended his vacation in Conneticut) and to save the papers this Saturday. She told him how worried I had been and he felt flattered I cared that much and told her to tell me he loved me. Hee. *beams*

There is an older man (probably in his 70s or 80s) that used to come to my work every Saturday to get his newspapers. He has a disability and it is very hard for him to walk so he would call in in the mornings to request us to hold the papers and then later in the day, when he could get someone to drive him there, he would come pick them up. This became a ritual and I began holding the papers at the beginning of the day without his call so that nobody else would grab the paper beforehand (sometimes they would). He would call and ask for me because he knew that I held them.

“Skye, sweetie, how’re you?” I always recognized his voice and a smile would come to my face when he called. He would flirt with me some and say that if he were my age, he’d love to get to know me more because I seemed interesting, nice, and sweet. I would joke with Josh that he had competition.

Mr. D went on vacation around Christmas and he called me, saying not to hold the papers until he called again. He said he should be back by the end of January latest. I still haven’t heard from him. I asked around at work and nobody else has either. Maybe I care too much, but I’m getting worried. I know that it is a business relationship but I naturally have everything personal for customer service. Whether it is wrong or not, I care. It makes me sad to think that someone I care about could be in the hospital or hurt or dead but I’d never know because I’m just a random girl at the bookstore that helped them. I’d never know.

Ugh.

So I meet this guy at work. He’s really cool and I’m excited because we talk for an hour and I can tell we’ll be friends. (I don’t have many friends; this is big for me) We exchange numbers and text back and forth throughout yesterday night and today. I go by and see him at his work (we’re both baristas though he’s the boy version).

But this is the problem. I gave him the url to Ealain so that he could read my story. And I want to blog about him more (he really is really cool) but I can’t because he might come and see.

*sigh*

At work today, Louise was helping this girl find a book she wanted and asked her where she was from because she had noticed her accent. She said “I’m Croatian” and I was like O_O haha.

I told her about Jelena and Nela and that Jelena lives in Zagreb and Nela in Rijeka. The Croatian Girl (also known as Kristina somethingsomething-vich) also lives in Zagreb but lived in Germany for a while.

She was suprised I knew where Croatia is (next to Italy but across the water where Yugoslavia used to be). She said most people don’t have any clue where it is and ask her what language they speak, to which she says Croatian, and to which they say “oooh, fancy, you have your own language.” Louise wanted her to say something in Croatian so she asked what. So, as proof, I had her teach me how to say “fairy.” I don’t know how to write it but it’s said veen-treen-sza.

It made me feel a little closer to Jelena and Nela too haha.

(PS. Jelena, I consciously said Yel-en-uh when speaking to her instead of Juh-lee-nuh haha)