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| 2016 july 30: Debut (Adam Parrish, Billy Batson, Brendan Conlon, Greg Jenko, Henry Cheng, Iron Bull, Katie Marks, Kevin Price, Matthias Helvar, Party Poison, Peter Parker) august 01: Introduction (John Reese) september 04: Introduction (Molly Stearns) october 13: Hospital Visit (Henry Cheng) november 25: Introduction (Greta Baker) december 09: Introduction (Olive Penderghast) 2017 january 28: Chinese New Year (Adam Parrish, Greta Baker, Henry Cheng, Magnus Bane, Noah Czerny) march 05: Introduction (Demelza Poldark) april 01: Founder's Day (Alec Lightwood, Henry Cheng) may 12: Office Visit (Party Poison) june 07: Introduction (Nathan Drake) july 05: Introduction (Dutch) august 11: New Script (Grace Faraday) september 08: Brainstorming (Magnus Bane) october 10: Introduction (Stephen Meyers) november 04: Saoirse's Birthday (Greta Baker) |
I don't know why I'm so nervous. I went to Alec and Magnus' wedding a few weeks ago, and it was both beautiful and intimate, not the kind of event that I would expect an invitation to from any other than my closest circle of friends. But I went, and I learned more about why Alec Lightwood wanted me there, and I managed to have a perfectly lovely conversation with Magnus Bane.
If Alec knew that was going to happen, then he must be some kind of secret, social genius. What better event than a wedding to make up and play nice? I'm pretty sure that a wedding will make almost anyone smile even at their worst enemy.
And Magnus is far from my worst enemy.
Without the wedding to act as a buffer though, I'm... worried about how our conversation will go. It would be one thing if we were meeting just to, how do you say it? Shoot the breeze. If we were just gossiping about television shows, or restaurants, or about the strange things that white people do, I would probably expect to have a great time. But I'm here to learn, and as I've come to understand more about the history of Darrow, I know that shit is going to start hitting the fan around Halloween.
(I hate Halloween. I hate the fact that the city's magic likes Halloween so much. This is the sort of thing that should be left to Louis.)
That means that I need to find some way to convince Magnus to teach me more, without pushing him so hard that he starts to be suspicious of me. There's a good chance that he won't want to stick his neck out at all to help the city during Halloween, and if so, who would blame him? He's a private citizen. He follows the law. He has no obligation to help me out.
I still hope he will.
I've invited him to an Indonesian restaurant — the only one I could find in Darrow. It smells wonderful here, and the conversations are loud enough that I don't think people will eavesdrop on what we talk about, though I'm hoping that Magnus might have some kind of spell up his sleeve to fend off nosy people even more. I'm sitting already at a table at the back of the restaurant, here first not because Magnus is late, but because I insisted on being early.
I take a sip from the glass of water (no ice) that the server poured for me, then stare out the window, hoping to spot Magnus as he arrives.
If Alec knew that was going to happen, then he must be some kind of secret, social genius. What better event than a wedding to make up and play nice? I'm pretty sure that a wedding will make almost anyone smile even at their worst enemy.
And Magnus is far from my worst enemy.
Without the wedding to act as a buffer though, I'm... worried about how our conversation will go. It would be one thing if we were meeting just to, how do you say it? Shoot the breeze. If we were just gossiping about television shows, or restaurants, or about the strange things that white people do, I would probably expect to have a great time. But I'm here to learn, and as I've come to understand more about the history of Darrow, I know that shit is going to start hitting the fan around Halloween.
(I hate Halloween. I hate the fact that the city's magic likes Halloween so much. This is the sort of thing that should be left to Louis.)
That means that I need to find some way to convince Magnus to teach me more, without pushing him so hard that he starts to be suspicious of me. There's a good chance that he won't want to stick his neck out at all to help the city during Halloween, and if so, who would blame him? He's a private citizen. He follows the law. He has no obligation to help me out.
I still hope he will.
I've invited him to an Indonesian restaurant — the only one I could find in Darrow. It smells wonderful here, and the conversations are loud enough that I don't think people will eavesdrop on what we talk about, though I'm hoping that Magnus might have some kind of spell up his sleeve to fend off nosy people even more. I'm sitting already at a table at the back of the restaurant, here first not because Magnus is late, but because I insisted on being early.
I take a sip from the glass of water (no ice) that the server poured for me, then stare out the window, hoping to spot Magnus as he arrives.
In the middle of all the craziness of working for the government and helping to melt a heavy pile of plastic toys into something that doesn't burn a hole in the atmosphere, it's nice to have a touch of normalcy sometimes. That's what I get when I visit Molly Stearns outside of work. You'd think that because I met her outside of City Hall, and because she was one of the most helpful people to me when I was running for councilwoman, that our whole relationship would be based on work.
But the nice thing is that it's not. We both have lives outside of work, no matter how ambitious we are when we're on the clock. We both love having an occasional glass of wine, a little bit of gossip — you know, the things that you would expect adults our age to do, especially when you've got good taste like we do.
And of course, there's also Abigail.
I never had a girl of my own, even though Louis I think has always wanted daughters more than sons. That's why I agreed to have a third baby — it's not like I actually thought that we needed a third kid. I'm of the opinion that you generally aim to make as many kids as you have parents in the family. That way, you're not strapped for money as parents, and the kids aren't overly burdened with taking care of the elderly either.
Unlike Louis, I don't really get sentimental over the opportunities we had that we made a smart and conscious decision to avoid. A fourth child, another mouth to feed, would mean a lot less freedom for both of us. Besides, I'm getting old and so are my eggs.
But I have to admit, having Abigail in my arms makes me wonder just a little bit. There's something nice about raising a daughter as a strong mother. You get to pass those traits along, you get to show her how to navigate a world that does not bend in her favor but can be owned by her all the same. I have Abigail in my arms now, having come to Molly's place for the two of us to talk (about anything other than work).
"She's getting so big," I remark to Molly, cooing as Abigail hides her face against my shoulder. "And looking more and more like her mama every day."
But the nice thing is that it's not. We both have lives outside of work, no matter how ambitious we are when we're on the clock. We both love having an occasional glass of wine, a little bit of gossip — you know, the things that you would expect adults our age to do, especially when you've got good taste like we do.
And of course, there's also Abigail.
I never had a girl of my own, even though Louis I think has always wanted daughters more than sons. That's why I agreed to have a third baby — it's not like I actually thought that we needed a third kid. I'm of the opinion that you generally aim to make as many kids as you have parents in the family. That way, you're not strapped for money as parents, and the kids aren't overly burdened with taking care of the elderly either.
Unlike Louis, I don't really get sentimental over the opportunities we had that we made a smart and conscious decision to avoid. A fourth child, another mouth to feed, would mean a lot less freedom for both of us. Besides, I'm getting old and so are my eggs.
But I have to admit, having Abigail in my arms makes me wonder just a little bit. There's something nice about raising a daughter as a strong mother. You get to pass those traits along, you get to show her how to navigate a world that does not bend in her favor but can be owned by her all the same. I have Abigail in my arms now, having come to Molly's place for the two of us to talk (about anything other than work).
"She's getting so big," I remark to Molly, cooing as Abigail hides her face against my shoulder. "And looking more and more like her mama every day."
Working for the government is a pain in the butt. (Or ass. I guess I don't have to censor myself for my sons these days.)
I generally do not expect much from my government, or my elected representatives. Call me cynical. Maybe some people would also say that I'm a hypocrite for now working for the government, but I actually think it's quite logical — I am always of the mentality that the only person that you can trust to get it done is yourself. So if I'm to have any faith in the system at all, why wouldn't I make myself part of it?
Anyway.
The whole government is a mess. And I don't mean in terms of balancing budget or numbers, or writing policies that are legally sound. I mean the whole lack of transparency. If I thought that working for the government was going to put me in a better position to understand what happens and why, I'm unfortunately pretty disappointed. Even my first public event as congressperson-elect had the Mayor telling everyone to pick up these mysterious plastic eggs of unknown origin. Who does that?
I've been trying to track down who was responsible. I've gotten a couple of people fired through paper trails. But I still can't say that I have found the actual person responsible, and it's driving me crazy.
Dangerous things happen in the city. Why is it so hard to figure out where they're coming from, when they touch the actual government itself? Ugh. What a headache.
On top of this all, I have been holding lots of open office hours so that people can actually see and talk face to face with their representative, and that keeps me busier than I expected. Even now, there's a knock on the door, and I look up quickly, trying to put a smile on my face.
"Come in," I say loudly enough for the visitor to hear.
I generally do not expect much from my government, or my elected representatives. Call me cynical. Maybe some people would also say that I'm a hypocrite for now working for the government, but I actually think it's quite logical — I am always of the mentality that the only person that you can trust to get it done is yourself. So if I'm to have any faith in the system at all, why wouldn't I make myself part of it?
Anyway.
The whole government is a mess. And I don't mean in terms of balancing budget or numbers, or writing policies that are legally sound. I mean the whole lack of transparency. If I thought that working for the government was going to put me in a better position to understand what happens and why, I'm unfortunately pretty disappointed. Even my first public event as congressperson-elect had the Mayor telling everyone to pick up these mysterious plastic eggs of unknown origin. Who does that?
I've been trying to track down who was responsible. I've gotten a couple of people fired through paper trails. But I still can't say that I have found the actual person responsible, and it's driving me crazy.
Dangerous things happen in the city. Why is it so hard to figure out where they're coming from, when they touch the actual government itself? Ugh. What a headache.
On top of this all, I have been holding lots of open office hours so that people can actually see and talk face to face with their representative, and that keeps me busier than I expected. Even now, there's a knock on the door, and I look up quickly, trying to put a smile on my face.
"Come in," I say loudly enough for the visitor to hear.
So I have been keeping an eye on some of the people I have met since arriving in Darrow. Mostly the younger ones. There are the children who are as young as my boys, like Brendan's daughters, who I like to check in on because that is the kind of mothering that I am used to providing. But what I learned is that the people who actually need the most help are the ones who are legally adults, but clearly still need some guidance. The kids who probably think that they're all that, that they can decide everything for themselves, but still make a lot of wrong choices.
It is great practice for the day I eventually reunite with my sons again. But more than that, I just want to make sure each one of them grows up into the best and most successful person they can be.
Which is why I am here at Semele's, staying all the way until their closing time, because I need some extra time to talk to a certain person.
"Ma'am," one of the servers tries to catch my attention. "Ma'am, I'm sorry but it's closing time for us, so I'll have to ask you to—"
"—I already paid my check, thank you, you can go. I'm here to talk to someone."
If Louis was with me, if the boys were with me, maybe the waitress wouldn't turn around so quickly, but I know that I can be intimidating when I want to be, so she leaves me alone. Maybe she's running off to tell her manager, who won't have so hard of a time trying to nudge me out. But before anyone can try, I'm making my way towards the kitchen, where I know that I can find the boy I'm looking for.
"Eric," I call out through the doors. "Eric, it's Jessica. We need to talk. Put down whatever you're cleaning, someone else can take care of it."
It is great practice for the day I eventually reunite with my sons again. But more than that, I just want to make sure each one of them grows up into the best and most successful person they can be.
Which is why I am here at Semele's, staying all the way until their closing time, because I need some extra time to talk to a certain person.
"Ma'am," one of the servers tries to catch my attention. "Ma'am, I'm sorry but it's closing time for us, so I'll have to ask you to—"
"—I already paid my check, thank you, you can go. I'm here to talk to someone."
If Louis was with me, if the boys were with me, maybe the waitress wouldn't turn around so quickly, but I know that I can be intimidating when I want to be, so she leaves me alone. Maybe she's running off to tell her manager, who won't have so hard of a time trying to nudge me out. But before anyone can try, I'm making my way towards the kitchen, where I know that I can find the boy I'm looking for.
"Eric," I call out through the doors. "Eric, it's Jessica. We need to talk. Put down whatever you're cleaning, someone else can take care of it."
Tabloids are dangerous things. I know that. They are all filled with stories that are interesting and that we want to know more about, but the problem is that most of them are fake. So it's like they get you all interested when you're waiting in line at the grocery store, but if you don't carefully read the magazine name then sometimes you have these fake stories planted in your head, and then when you bring it up in conversation everyone looks at you like you're stupid.
But every now and again, a very important story breaks first on a tabloid — and then you find out that it's true.
This is why I still read tabloid article titles when I'm in the grocery store. Except now I carefully research online to see if it's actually true before I sound any alarms and start gossiping.
There was a story on the front of City Enquirer this week that looked ridiculous right away. It said that somebody found a hole in the city, and if you walk through this hole then you can see a different dimension or version of Darrow or something. Maybe if I read that on my first day in Darrow then I would have started searching for the hole immediately. After all, I was looking for anything that could give me clues on how to leave this godforsaken city. But after a month of finding nothing, I was starting to settle a little more.
Until now.
I was on my way to a job interview when I passed by the place that the magazine was talking about. And I saw it with my own eyes — a hole. And I saw someone walk through it. And then I immediately pulled out my phone and started reading everything that people are saying about it, and I will tell you that it sounds like a mix of a horror and science fiction movie.
My mind immediately goes to Brendan's girls. They are the youngest that I know in Darrow, and the ones I would want to be the furthest away from something like this.
I knock a few times on Brendan's door, loud to try to get his attention. It is late enough that I think he is probably at home with his girls.
"Brendan? Brendan, are you home?" I call out.
But every now and again, a very important story breaks first on a tabloid — and then you find out that it's true.
This is why I still read tabloid article titles when I'm in the grocery store. Except now I carefully research online to see if it's actually true before I sound any alarms and start gossiping.
There was a story on the front of City Enquirer this week that looked ridiculous right away. It said that somebody found a hole in the city, and if you walk through this hole then you can see a different dimension or version of Darrow or something. Maybe if I read that on my first day in Darrow then I would have started searching for the hole immediately. After all, I was looking for anything that could give me clues on how to leave this godforsaken city. But after a month of finding nothing, I was starting to settle a little more.
Until now.
I was on my way to a job interview when I passed by the place that the magazine was talking about. And I saw it with my own eyes — a hole. And I saw someone walk through it. And then I immediately pulled out my phone and started reading everything that people are saying about it, and I will tell you that it sounds like a mix of a horror and science fiction movie.
My mind immediately goes to Brendan's girls. They are the youngest that I know in Darrow, and the ones I would want to be the furthest away from something like this.
I knock a few times on Brendan's door, loud to try to get his attention. It is late enough that I think he is probably at home with his girls.
"Brendan? Brendan, are you home?" I call out.
Being in Darrow is exhausting. It has been a month, but most things do not feel any easier than the day I arrived. Okay, so I'll admit that I have made some friends in this time, and now I also know the directions to most places that I would be interested in visiting regularly. I've also earned enough trust with my neighbors that they don't complain about the smells of my home cooking (which is really rude of them to complain about in the first place; do they want me to be completely invisible as their neighbor?). So when it comes to daily living, yes, things are easier.
But there is also a niggling voice at the back of my head that hates the fact that I am still here. That hates the fact that in the morning, sometimes I do errands instead of heading straight to the library. I feel restless and unhappy in Darrow. And very, very tired. I am only realizing now how much of a relief it was to have Louis around to talk to; he made me feel better about so many things just by listening. Or by suggesting things that were so silly that I came up with better solutions.
Here, my apartment is empty. And yes, I can dote on Henry and Adam and the others who have let me into their lives, but it's not the same as living with a family.
This is why I spend more time at the park now. It is just across the street, and at least during the day I can enjoy the sounds of families who have come to the playground with their kids. I am just settling in with my bao for lunch when I see a woman push a stroller with the cutest little baby inside.
"Oh," I sigh, smiling at the child. "Your baby is just adorable."
But there is also a niggling voice at the back of my head that hates the fact that I am still here. That hates the fact that in the morning, sometimes I do errands instead of heading straight to the library. I feel restless and unhappy in Darrow. And very, very tired. I am only realizing now how much of a relief it was to have Louis around to talk to; he made me feel better about so many things just by listening. Or by suggesting things that were so silly that I came up with better solutions.
Here, my apartment is empty. And yes, I can dote on Henry and Adam and the others who have let me into their lives, but it's not the same as living with a family.
This is why I spend more time at the park now. It is just across the street, and at least during the day I can enjoy the sounds of families who have come to the playground with their kids. I am just settling in with my bao for lunch when I see a woman push a stroller with the cutest little baby inside.
"Oh," I sigh, smiling at the child. "Your baby is just adorable."
I have been in the city of Darrow for over a month. And that is a little frightening to think about. I don't think that I am any closer to finding any answers about why I am here, how people are brought here, or how I can leave. While I have worked for longer to achieve many things in my life, I have to admit that this might be the most frustrating experience yet. I don't know what kind of progress I'm making. Every day, I work from dawn until dusk to either learn more about the city or at least find ways to keep myself afloat while I'm here. I go to bed exhausted, I never get good sleep.
But I feel that I am still at square one.
The only possible place that I think I could investigate more than I have is City Hall. There must be some reason why the politics of this city is so strange. Why is there a mayor that almost nobody knows about or is able to speak to? I mean, nobody in Orlando knows who their mayor is either, but that's why the mayor is so happy to receive some kind of attention when the people actually decide that it's important to speak with him. Here, you don't have that. You only have receptionists who use all kinds of ways to keep you from making an appointment with the mayor.
I think this means they're hiding something, and I am going to find out what. Today, I am waiting in the bushes outside of City Hall. Some people might think that I look strange, but I have made sure to stay far enough that I cannot legally get in trouble for loitering. I have a lunch box with me that is filled with pork buns that I munch on as I look through my pair of binoculars, trying to see into the City Hall windows. Sometimes I can see people walking down the hall, not well enough to make out their faces, but enough to know that there's something going on inside.
Now I just need to figure out a plan to get myself in there. Maybe not today, but I figure that if I apply for a job with the city government, then they definitely won't be able to keep me out. I mean, I would only be doing my job.
But I feel that I am still at square one.
The only possible place that I think I could investigate more than I have is City Hall. There must be some reason why the politics of this city is so strange. Why is there a mayor that almost nobody knows about or is able to speak to? I mean, nobody in Orlando knows who their mayor is either, but that's why the mayor is so happy to receive some kind of attention when the people actually decide that it's important to speak with him. Here, you don't have that. You only have receptionists who use all kinds of ways to keep you from making an appointment with the mayor.
I think this means they're hiding something, and I am going to find out what. Today, I am waiting in the bushes outside of City Hall. Some people might think that I look strange, but I have made sure to stay far enough that I cannot legally get in trouble for loitering. I have a lunch box with me that is filled with pork buns that I munch on as I look through my pair of binoculars, trying to see into the City Hall windows. Sometimes I can see people walking down the hall, not well enough to make out their faces, but enough to know that there's something going on inside.
Now I just need to figure out a plan to get myself in there. Maybe not today, but I figure that if I apply for a job with the city government, then they definitely won't be able to keep me out. I mean, I would only be doing my job.
Today is a very important day.
I know what you're probably thinking — no, I have not yet found a way to get back to Orlando. And I have not stopped searching for a way, because my number one goal is still to return and be back with my family no matter how many times people tell me that it's impossible. No, unfortunately this day is important not for any reason that falls outside of Darrow city limits. But it is the next best thing.
I am cooking dinner for Henry and his friends.
This is not the first time that I have cooked for Henry, of course. It is a little hard to get used to cooking for only one person again, and buying portions only for one person also gets irritating because I know I can get better value when I buy in bulk. So many days, I just buy wholesale and then I take the extra food over to Henry, or I drop it off at his place if he's not home, because I think that every good Asian boy should have a mother's home-style cooking now and again. But I always knew that the more interesting time would come if I could also cook for his friends.
I need to make sure that they're good friends, after all. You can tell a lot about a person by the way they eat. How picky they are, how willing they are to try new things, whether or not they have the dexterity to handle chopsticks. Table manners and conversation skills are critical too. Even though Henry is a good, responsible boy, it's always possible for a bad influence to come in and ruin everything. I need to know if there's that kind of risk! Nothing is allowed to derail him from heading towards the best future.
So I text Henry and I let him know that I'm grocery shopping and want to cook for him and all his friends. I have the address of the place they stay, I ask Henry over the phone what tools they have (that's very important, if I need to bring over my own I always do), I tell him when I'll be there so that he can tell his friends of the plan.
I make a lot of food. One, because I want to learn which dishes Henry actually likes the most. But two, again, I need to see which of his friends are open to embracing other cultures. Some of the foods are very tame and popular — pork dumplings made from scratch, Taiwanese beef rolls, and three cups chicken. For Henry, I also make kimchi pancakes, because it's important to have some Korean food too. But I also have dishes for the more adventurous — fried pork intestine, squid soup, and stinky tofu.
It's all delicious. I know, because I cooked it.
But now I shall see how his friends like the food. I have bowls of rice in front of everyone's seat, as well as chopsticks and napkins. I will not hand out forks unless someone asks or is struggling. It is a mark of good character to try, but also good to know one's limits. I seat myself next to Henry's seat because, of course, more than anything I am happy to spend time with him.
Looking around at all of their faces, I smile and wave my arm at my day's work.
"Please, eat!"
[ Note: The stinky tofu dish has a cover on it, so people will only be hit with the smell whenever someone lifts the cover to grab a piece. ]
I know what you're probably thinking — no, I have not yet found a way to get back to Orlando. And I have not stopped searching for a way, because my number one goal is still to return and be back with my family no matter how many times people tell me that it's impossible. No, unfortunately this day is important not for any reason that falls outside of Darrow city limits. But it is the next best thing.
I am cooking dinner for Henry and his friends.
This is not the first time that I have cooked for Henry, of course. It is a little hard to get used to cooking for only one person again, and buying portions only for one person also gets irritating because I know I can get better value when I buy in bulk. So many days, I just buy wholesale and then I take the extra food over to Henry, or I drop it off at his place if he's not home, because I think that every good Asian boy should have a mother's home-style cooking now and again. But I always knew that the more interesting time would come if I could also cook for his friends.
I need to make sure that they're good friends, after all. You can tell a lot about a person by the way they eat. How picky they are, how willing they are to try new things, whether or not they have the dexterity to handle chopsticks. Table manners and conversation skills are critical too. Even though Henry is a good, responsible boy, it's always possible for a bad influence to come in and ruin everything. I need to know if there's that kind of risk! Nothing is allowed to derail him from heading towards the best future.
So I text Henry and I let him know that I'm grocery shopping and want to cook for him and all his friends. I have the address of the place they stay, I ask Henry over the phone what tools they have (that's very important, if I need to bring over my own I always do), I tell him when I'll be there so that he can tell his friends of the plan.
I make a lot of food. One, because I want to learn which dishes Henry actually likes the most. But two, again, I need to see which of his friends are open to embracing other cultures. Some of the foods are very tame and popular — pork dumplings made from scratch, Taiwanese beef rolls, and three cups chicken. For Henry, I also make kimchi pancakes, because it's important to have some Korean food too. But I also have dishes for the more adventurous — fried pork intestine, squid soup, and stinky tofu.
It's all delicious. I know, because I cooked it.
But now I shall see how his friends like the food. I have bowls of rice in front of everyone's seat, as well as chopsticks and napkins. I will not hand out forks unless someone asks or is struggling. It is a mark of good character to try, but also good to know one's limits. I seat myself next to Henry's seat because, of course, more than anything I am happy to spend time with him.
Looking around at all of their faces, I smile and wave my arm at my day's work.
"Please, eat!"
[ Note: The stinky tofu dish has a cover on it, so people will only be hit with the smell whenever someone lifts the cover to grab a piece. ]
knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers
Aug. 2nd, 2016 08:33 pmIt has been three whole days since I arrived in Darrow. Three days by my watch — which, maybe if I'm dreaming then I can't trust my watch — but it feels like three days and that is three days too many to be trapped somewhere without my family. I have read all the literature. I have searched for things online. I have talked to many people, some that didn't know anything and wasted all of my time. I have rented cars and called taxis and tried everything that won't take the money that I keep aside to make sure that I can eat regularly.
There is not much of that money. If I am to believe the things that people tell me about Darrow, then I might be here for a very long time. I might be here for months, or even years. That is more than enough time that I should start thinking about a job, maybe two if I want to keep spending money on finding a way out of this place. I know that this would be the sensible thing to do, that anything else is risky at this point because I know too little. Above all, I have to survive, otherwise there is no point in trying to go home.
I had a checklist written for today. I would spend five hours looking for a way out and three hours researching which jobs are profitable enough for me in Darrow given my skills. I already applied to a dozen jobs that are data entry, very boring, but I am very organized and efficient so maybe I can use the extra time at work to continue looking at the internet.
Three hours of research, done. That means five hours that I should keep looking and learning about Darrow. I am walking back to my apartment, my very empty apartment that gives me nightmares every night, and I have some papers from the library that I want to read when I get back. But then I hear some people laughing, and I turn and I see a restaurant that has many people in it. I can hear people chatting and I think somebody is singing, and after I spent a whole day by myself I almost miss being in a crowd no matter how obnoxious.
Also there's a sign that lists the kinds of wines that they sell.
That is all the convincing I need.
I make my way to the bar of the restaurant and sit myself down. There are some people who were waiting for a spot and they glare at me but I don't care, if they wanted a seat so badly they should have tried harder to get it themselves.
"Can somebody get me a menu?" I ask, dropping my papers and books next to my stool.
There is not much of that money. If I am to believe the things that people tell me about Darrow, then I might be here for a very long time. I might be here for months, or even years. That is more than enough time that I should start thinking about a job, maybe two if I want to keep spending money on finding a way out of this place. I know that this would be the sensible thing to do, that anything else is risky at this point because I know too little. Above all, I have to survive, otherwise there is no point in trying to go home.
I had a checklist written for today. I would spend five hours looking for a way out and three hours researching which jobs are profitable enough for me in Darrow given my skills. I already applied to a dozen jobs that are data entry, very boring, but I am very organized and efficient so maybe I can use the extra time at work to continue looking at the internet.
Three hours of research, done. That means five hours that I should keep looking and learning about Darrow. I am walking back to my apartment, my very empty apartment that gives me nightmares every night, and I have some papers from the library that I want to read when I get back. But then I hear some people laughing, and I turn and I see a restaurant that has many people in it. I can hear people chatting and I think somebody is singing, and after I spent a whole day by myself I almost miss being in a crowd no matter how obnoxious.
Also there's a sign that lists the kinds of wines that they sell.
That is all the convincing I need.
I make my way to the bar of the restaurant and sit myself down. There are some people who were waiting for a spot and they glare at me but I don't care, if they wanted a seat so badly they should have tried harder to get it themselves.
"Can somebody get me a menu?" I ask, dropping my papers and books next to my stool.