They didn't call me but I went back. I mean, I had to. I just had to stand there and wait for him. It has been two days since I applied to that restaurant and I really don't care if they call me and hire me. I just want to see him again.
Yes, the him is Mr. Black.
I can't stop thinking about him. I can't stop picturing him. The limo. The way the driver respected and feared him. How he walked. His face looked like chiseled stone, I swear on it.
Wow, what would I give to touch his face?
This has to be pathetic, right? Worrying so much about a man that really means nothing. But I can't help its. It's an addicting right now. It'll go away. I just need to see him. One more time. Maybe... maybe even talk to him.
Can you imagine?
Walking up to him... and saying... "Mr. Black?"