Twinning

The days are starting to blend together. I can’t believe it’s almost September. It’s the third Wednesday in August, and I just received an email—my furlough has officially ended. I have a noon meeting with my manager Robyn at Savvi Provisions, the bodega around the corner from both our apartment buildings. We live on the same block and always talk about hanging out, but somehow it never happens. For the past six months, I’ve been using the coronavirus as an excuse to dodge her. But now it’s back to the existential 9 to 5 grind, and the company wants everyone in person again. I arrive early. I glance at the menu like I don’t already know it by heart, hoping something new might spark my interest. I head to the freezer and grab a ginger apple Arden’s Garden juice, then order a chicken sausage and fried egg with cheddar on a croissant. Something I could easily make at home, but there’s still something so satisfying about ordering it—especially knowing it’s pork- and beef-free. Robyn walks past the storefront window, wearing aviators, a black shirt, and dark denim jeans—the exact outfit I’m wearing. “Hi!” she says, bubbly as always. I can never tell if it’s genuine or just managerial small talk. “Hey! It’s nice out, right?” I always feel corny talking about the weather, but I genuinely care about it. She orders an iced coffee and a cinnamon raisin bagel. Once she has her change, we head to the atrium, a small area with six tables. Two guys sit in the far corner and stare as we walk in. We take seats on the opposite side for COVID-safe distance. To my surprise, we don’t talk about work. “How have you been? Any inspiration for your new book?” Right on cue, a young woman arrives with our food. I awkwardly stuff my mouth with the croissant, still piping hot. “Umm… I have some ideas I’ve been toying with,” I say between bites. “I’ve been thinking about pairing my poetry with imagery—maybe pictures of the ocean, reflections of stars on the water. I want it to be more introspective. I’m asking why we’re so often our own worst critics. I think I’m done talking about love… I might call it The Unpopular Opinion: A Journey Within.” Robyn looks horrified. “Yeah… imagery. That sounds great. Send it to me in an email.” And just like that, I realize—this meeting isn’t personal. It’s corporate protocol. I finish my croissant. One of the guys from the other table walks over. “Do you go to Georgia State? You look familiar.” I smile. “No… sorry.” His friend teases, “Told you! So rude.” They laugh. “It’s ok,” I reply, smiling even more now. They’re kinda cute up close. The one still sitting has curly blonde hair. The one standing has a pompadour. Both clearly undergrads. I freeze, unsure what to say next. “Maybe… he was a Pisces?” I blurt. “You’re a Pisces? I’m a Pisces too!” Pompadour says. His friend jumps up. “Do you have Co-Star?” Of course I do. I pull out my phone to compare charts. Robyn can’t take it anymore. “Ok, I’m gonna go!” “Ok, talk later!” I say, without hesitation. As she leaves with her Beats on, Curly Hair says, “I’m Bryan and this is Tyler. We’re headed to Le Colonial for lunch… wanna come?” I’m tempted. They want to hang out with me? I think: why not? I deserve this. I could go for a couple of mimosas… But then reality hits. I’d be the only one drinking. The age gap suddenly stretches wide. “I apologize… I already have plans,” I say. As I leave the atrium, I go back and forth in my mind—was I crazy to say no? Should I have gone? But I feel a spark, a little confidence boost just from being noticed. Who knows what might’ve come from that encounter? Not everyone who walks into your life is meant to stay. Sometimes they show up just to remind you—you still got it.