Telephone 5: The Walkman

He considered the hotel lobby his home. That was where he spent most of his time, sipping coffee, fidgeting with the camera and having long conversations with friends. She would walk by at the usual time which was around 6pm. He would watch her breeze through, oblivious to the crowd milling around. Men would throw quick glances at her and she would pay no mind.

He would engage in this pastime for months before he decides to make his move. Like a hunter, he chose the time and place for the kill. It was on a rainy day in July when the opportunity presented itself.

She was in the driveway, waiting for her mom to pick her up. He walks over and starts a conversation. He was amazed she was prettier up close and being with her was something he wanted. A venue was set for a first date.

It was in a pizza place at a popular commercial area. It was one of the last stand-alone restaurants before the district became a perennial construction area and everything else was packed into the mall which was constantly expanding. He picked her up after work. She was smiling the whole time seemingly grateful for the respite from the madness. They had a generous serving of pizza, soup and salad. He thought he would burst but he made it just fine. They talked about the “Little Prince” which was her favorite book. She was giggly all throughout which took away a few years off her actual age. She was a schoolgirl on a prom date. He was unsure what to make of all of it but he was happy.

At the end of the meal, the service staff seemed a bit slow. No one bothered to look their way and they barely noticed him frantically waving at them to bring over the bill. Strange, but the place was not too crowded that night. Maybe no one noticed them at all. They were in their own little world.

Just for the heck of it, he dared her to walk out the door and stiff the check. She giggled then broke out into a hearty laugh. He was dead serious. Her face turned grim. It was just about then when a waitress came in and asked how she could be of service.

Before they parted ways, they exchanged numbers.

That would come in handy when she left for Tokyo the week after. They saw each other at the office quite often so he saw no need to call her. Since the pizza affair, it seemed that days became unbearable without her. He was forced to come home earlier than usual. It was after dinner when his phone rang.

There was a girlish, female voice on the other end: “Hey, it's me!”

--”...and you are?”

“Silly! It's me, M!”

--”Hey, M! How's Tokyo?”

“It's just great! A little cold but otherwise, I'm good!”

--”That's nice. To what do I owe the honor?”

“Well, I'm booked in a fantastic room. Very Japanese. Very zen! There's this little console on the headboard next to the radio. It's very unusual. I flicked a switch and the sound of flowing water came through and I remembered you!”

--That is just so sweet!, he thought but he blurted out; “That's great for meditation.”

“Exactly, which is why I thought of you with all you talk about spirituality and Eastern philosophy.”

They carried on the conversation for about half an hour. He was certain that call was going to cost her. Suddenly, he felt a warmth that prompted him to ask why she would bother to call him at all if she didn't like him at all.

Two weeks after the call she comes back and sees him back at the office. She was carrying a rather large shopping bag. She was beaming as she came out the elevator. In the bag were chocolates, a hand-made notebook and a cassette recorder known back in the day as a “walkman”.

That prompted him to ask; “What's this for?”

--”That's so you never lose your thoughts. You can talk to it then use the notebook to write them down.”

He was dumbfounded.