Page 18 of The Jerk in Apartment 1B

He shakes his head. “We’re not fancy like that. We’re small enough we don’t need a computer telling us what to do. I take inventory daily and order what I need. It’s worked for seventy years. I don’t see a need to change it.”

“Okay, well, should I get started?”

“I need to go over a few more things.”

He takes me through the storeroom, showing me where everything is, then we go into the coolers and the freezer. Next, he takes me out to the store and explains how things should be positioned on the shelves.

“Any questions?” he says when we’re done.

“I don’t think so.”

“Great! Then go grab your cart and get started.” He takes off, leaving me standing in front of a row of canned fruit.

“Nice smock,” I hear someone say.

I look up and see the girl at the register staring at me, a smirk on her face. I don’t know what her deal is, but she seems very unhappy. Maybe she just got dumped by her boyfriend.

There’s nobody in the checkout line so I walk over there.

“Hi. I’m Trina,” I say with a smile.

“I know. I’m not deaf. I heard Frank say your name.”

“And you’re…” I wait for her to tell me her name, but she doesn’t. I search for a name tag, but there isn’t one. Frank seems like someone who would insist on name tags. “Is it Rose?” I ask, remembering the time card.

“I’m trying to work,” she says, grabbing a spray bottle and a rag. “Go bother someone else.” She sprays the conveyor belt with the cleaner and wipes it with the rag.

“Did I do something?” I ask. “You seem kind of… hostile.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs.

I guess we won’t be friends. I return to the shelf of canned fruit and make note of what needs to be restocked. I can’t believe this is their system. How could they not use a computer to track inventory?

“Could you hand me the pineapple?” someone says.

I look over and see the guy who was at my neighbor’s apartment this morning. The one with the big muscles. What was his name? I can’t remember. Why am I having so much trouble with names?

“Or I can just get it myself,” the guy says, smiling as he reaches in front of me.

“Sorry.” I step back. “I’m new here. I’m still getting used to it.”

“No problem.” He turns to me, holding the can of pineapple. “Weren’t you at Scott’s place this morning?”

“Who?”

“Scott. The guy who lives next to you. You’re the girl living in Jenna’s apartment, right?”

“Um, yeah. That’s me. Trina. And you’re… sorry, I forgot your name.”

“Cole. I live right above you. Second floor.”

“So your place is as small as mine. I’m guessing you get used to it?”

“Actually, I have a one bedroom. It’s a pretty big place.”

How does he live right above me and have a one bedroom? I thought every floor was laid out the same.

He holds up the can of pineapple. “I should get going. Got some prep work to do before the party. You’re coming, right?”

---