Wall Street Hustle
Served Cold
Sitting close to the door of the small deli, Peter sat in quiet thought as his sandwich lay untouched in front of him. For a third time since he’s been at the deli, his phone vibrates; dancing across the table’s top screaming for his attention. Despite the never ending dance, Peter continues to ignore the call, knowing exactly who waited on the other end. Finally picking up the sandwich, he gives the small interior space a quick glance, noticing how busy it was. Each table was filled and as was the case in the Big City, he knew his lonely table would not remain that way for too long.
“Is anyone sitting here?” asked a woman’s voice, breaking through Peter’s concentration through the window. As he turned to her, he immediately noticed her beauty. Her long black hair cascading from her knit hat, the sweater left unbuttoned all the way down, the image of his own spectacled face through her thick lenses; Peter only needed a moment to invite her to sit down.
“No, this seat is yours if you want it.” Peter replied, trying to avoid looking or sounding foolish. Before she could sit down however, he noticed her attention quickly shift to another person within the deli that she waved over to her. As this man towered past Peter to reach the last available seat at the table, the smile all but disappeared from his face. With his sandwich almost finished, Peter stayed at the table while the couple whisked off into their own world before his eyes. Despite the number of people both sitting and standing with their lunches, Peter began to feel lonelier than ever.
The automated sound of birds chirping played lowly against the many conversations within the deli. Reaching for his phone, Peter knew what this chime meant for the rest of his day. Swiping the large screen cleared the reminder from view and ended the mockingbird tunes. Peter excused himself from the table and within moments of getting up, the large man that he had briefly shared the table with immediately placed his bag on the chair. Sheepishly, Peter left the deli and stood outside for a moment within the shadows of the voluminous buildings surrounding him. Just as he began to walk, his phone once again buzzed. This time however, he chose to answer it.
“Where have you been Peter? I have been worried sick about you!” screamed a woman’s voice through the phone. Peter gripped the phone a bit tighter as he grits his teeth in anger.
“Why would you act like you care now? What does it matter to you where I have been?” he fired back at the voice on the other end of the phone. Without giving a moment for her to answer, Peter continued on.
“You have made it quite clear that I am not who you want or love. So please do not call me acting as if you suddenly are concerned about me Jennifer. You have made it clear who it is you care about.”
“That is not fair Peter, you cannot tell me who I love or care for. When I first told you about all of this I told I made a mistake and that I now see that you are the one for me” she replied through a strained, tired voice. Peter now found himself standing in a doorway to hear her better as the breeze refused to cooperate with him.
“How convenient of you to come to that decision after you’ve been with him Jennifer. You must take me for a fool. A damned fool. Regardless of what lies you need to fill yourself with, you decision is clear as this day to me. And thus, my decision is just as clear as to what I need to do. I hate that I’ve wasted my life on you Jennifer, I hope you can live with the choices you’ve made and the effects that they will have.” In fury, Peter ends the call and throws the phone into his open satchel. Laying there, gleaming back at him from within the bag – a small .25 caliber firearm.
While hastily walking two long blocks, Peter could not escape the many thoughts running through his mind. For too many years, Jennifer had been his entire world and without her, he felt nothing but loss. Looking back, he kicked himself for feeling any amount of shock at their relationship ending in this way. All his life he searched in the wrong places to find a reason for being, and with this latest occurrence, he found himself losing the will to search anymore. As he continued on, his long strides decreased in distance as his pace dwindled down. Was it nervousness? Fear of doing the wrong thing? Worry of the unknown? Would she even miss him when he was gone or would she just move on, having never cared. Peter didn’t know any of the answers to the questions running through his mind, but he knew that the choices he already made were all that he had left.
Reaching his determined location, Peter opened his satchel and looked inside once again. Underneath the gun was a picture that Peter grabbed quickly out of his bag. For a moment, he looked at the picture with a smile. In light of the situation surrounding him and Jennifer, he couldn’t understand exactly why he was smiling. Nonetheless, he spent a few more minutes staring at the beautiful couple in the pic before crumpling it up and throwing it into the waste basket of a street cleaner standing near.
“You have a good day man, you never know when it’ll be your last.” said the cleaner in a nonchalant manner.
“Sometimes, you do.” replied Peter, eerily. After standing at the corner for a few moments, someone caught Peter’s attention exiting a building within the distance. Though not close up, Peter could tell who it was. Without needing the picture within his hands, having burned the image into his mind, Peter made out the younger guy a few hurried paces away from him. Slipping his hand within the satchel while maintaining his focus on the younger man, Peter made sure his sidearm was easily in reach. Breaking his visual hold on him, Peter closed his eyes to see his Jennifer in the arms of this younger man, reminding him of why he was there at that moment. Opening his eyes, Peter continued his measured pursuit of the younger man, accompanied with vivid visions of emptying a few rounds through his black shirt, and his black heart.
Through a writer's mind 