Passages
Jasmin entered the building's main lobby through the door closest to the women's restroom. There, she bathed her feet, and changed into her work cloths. Exiting with her attaché case in hand, her Gwen top, and the bag being stuffed inside it, she clipped her employee identification badge onto the waistband of her skirt as she looked about furtively. Since it was still fairly early, and especially since nearly everyone who worked in the building entered through the parking garage, the lobby was, thankfully, almost empty.
But then she noticed that the building's security desk was situated directly between her, and the elevator corridor she needed to get to. How was she going to get her transformed body past the guards? she wondered. She recognized both the guards on duty, and knew that they were familiar with her since she was virtually the only Asian female who worked in the place, and especially since she had the habit of treating them to a couple of doughnuts every Friday morning when she came in.
But then it occurred to her that this was Monday.
Hmm, she reasoned, well, if, as Heinlein maintained, politeness is the grease of human interaction, then doughnuts just might be my grease to the elevators.
With that strategy in mind, Jasmin headed for Lee's coffee shop, which was fortuitously located at her end of the lobby.
Just hope I don't slip on that grease, and fall on my ass, it occurred to her to think.
Won Lee, the proprietor of the shop, was an old world Chinese with an attitude he visited upon all of his customers. He was also a shifty little man with a carefully studied inability to make proper change. Everyone who knew him, though, caught him, and almost everyone he dealt with knew him. These conflicts with his customers seemed to be an important part of what made life worthwhile for the old man, and his duels with a woman named Jing were legendary. He, along with the three, or four patrons who were in the place at the time, noticed the obvious as Jasmin came through the door to his shop with her customary no-nonsense, "Good morning, Lee."
"What hell happen you?" he demanded of her with surprise.
"I O.D.ed on vitamins this morning," Jasmin answered dryly.
She padded her barefoot way toward the row of glass cases displaying a wide variety of confections. Lee strode along with her on his side of the cases, eyeing her closely as if he was looking for something on her person. It was early yet, and both of them had some time to spare. The few customers sitting among the collection of chairs, and small tables, at the rear of the shop resumed ingesting their morning coffee, doughnut and newspaper. The front page, the editorial page, even the sports page, however, seemed not quite so important after Jasmin had come in. The regulars of Lee's who knew them both merely waited.
"Wha' you do heah?" Lee asked in his characteristically aggressive way. "It not Fwiday."
Not wanting to come right out, and admit to attempting bribery, Jasmin opted for evasion.
"Eaeaea, I'm in a bit of a different mood this morning," she replied as she looked over the selection.
"Wha'?" Lee asked, having found what he was looking for. "PMS?"
The female Asian's almond eyes shifted upward.
"No," she answered in slow warning, "more like bash your skull."
A stifled laugh was heard from one of the tables.
"Okay, wha' you wan'? You big enough now, you buy whole thing, huh?" Lee said, offering his entire days stock to the massive woman.
"Nice try," said Jasmin with a curiously appreciative smile, "but I do have to watch my waist."
"Ha!" the old Chinese barked. "You caw that a waist?" he said, referring to her near minute glass figure.
"It's better than your shriveled up, anorexic excuse for a gut," she countered testily.
"Hey-hey," the proprietor protested, "now you get pehsonal."
Jasmin glanced at him.
"P - M - S?" she asked knowingly.
"That you pwobwem," Lee retorted with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Huwy up. I not got aw day."
"Yeah," Jasmin droned, "I can see the line of customers just waiting to inflict themselves with you."
She made her selections, but then the real fireworks were about to begin. Fortunately separated by the display cases, the two combatants made their way back to the front of the shop; Lee carrying Jasmin's merchandise in a white paper bag which he set before her on the counter once they'd arrived at the cash register. Jasmin withdrew her little coin purse from her attaché case as Lee took a small styrofoam cup from a stack by his coffee machine, and began pouring.
"You wan coffee?" he asked.
"No thanks," she answered, not having noticed his preemptive strike. "With your attitude, who needs coffee?"
"I aweady poah it," he said, presenting her with the fruit of his triumph. "You buy now."
She looked at him pointedly.
"That's you pwobwem."
He turned away with the brimming cup, defeated.
"Ah, you cheat," he muttered.
"Okay, I'll take it," she acquiesced, motioning him to bring the coffee back, "but only because I'm in a 'P'articularly 'M'agnanimous 'S'pirit."
Regardless of how big she was, Lee looked ready to toss the piping hot liquid at her.
"You wan it ou not?" he asked truculently.
Jasmin curled her lip.
"Not really."
Lee returned the cup, and carefully set it before her.
"Okay, you buy it."
"How much do I owe you?" she asked, searching through her little purse.
"Two doughnuts, smaw coffee, that two dollah twewve cents, pwus fifey cents foah you PMS."
"And that's minus two dollars and sixty two cents for your being a snot, so that comes to . . . "
She paused just long enough, then smiled, and snatched up the little white bag.
"Gee, thanks, Lee."
"Hey-hey-hey!" the old man protested, rapping his hand on the counter.
The behemoth paused.
"You not get off that easy."
"You don't know how right you are," Jasmin said with a suggestive arch to an eyebrow.
Counter to his well cultivated sour puss personae, Lee smiled at this. His favorite adversary was throwing him curves he hadn't encountered from her before. For Jasmin's part, she was shocked at her forwardness with a man besides Ray, but then she noted that it was the first time she'd ever seen Won Lee smile. Aside from being really nice, it was a victory that begged gloating, so she added a tiny smile of her own.
"You - really - don't know," she said.
"An' I no wanna know," Lee said quickly, realizing that a chink in his armor had been found. "Two dollah twewve."
Jasmin returned to searching in her coin purse.
"A dollar eighty-six. Right?"
"Two twelve," he repeated a bit louder.
"Two twelves?"
She looked up, amazed.
"That's twenty four cents. Boy, are you having a sale?"
"C'mon," Lee said, impatiently rapping the counter. "I got cus'omers waiting. You big enough foah two people, I should chauge you twice."
He opened the til as she passed him two singles, and a dime.
"Two moah cents."
Jasmin had the two pennies, but gave him another dime anyway. She knew it was important to him. Claiming his que d'disgrace, Lee gave her a nickel, then shut the til.
"Excuse me?" Jasmin stated.
"You excused," Lee conceded dismissively.
"Lee?"
"Wha'?" he asked, the picture of tainted innocence.
Her eyes tried to burn into him.
"Wha'? You wan' some'hing ewse now?"
"Where's my three cents?"
"I aweady give it you."
"You did not."
"You put it in youah puwse."
"Lee."
He was not burning well.
"What you make big deal foah thwee cents?"
"So why are you making a big deal of it? It's my three cents."
"I gave it you," he insisted.
"You did not," she insisted.
"Ahh!" said Lee with a wave of his hand as he turned away.
"Do I have to have to wrestle you to the floor for it?" the huge woman queried ominously.
Lee turned back.
"If I wes'ue you to fwooah, it won't be foah thwee cents."
His utterance immediately left both of them stunned. The words had come out of the old man before he'd even thought them. There was a freeze dried moment of time that held them both captive in its grasp. A megaton 'WOW' went off in Jasmin's head. Both of them wondered for an eternal second about what had happened. Neither could glean a ready answer. The ensuing thaw gave rise to a very awkward recovery from an embarrassment neither of them knew what to do with. Realizing that he'd caused the situation, Lee took the initiative by retreating into his familiar personae.
"Ah!" he grumbled as he opened the register drawer.
Almost without her knowing it, Jasmin extended her hand, and the old Chinese deposited the three pennies into her waiting palm. But then another unexpected first occurred between them as Lee carefully took her hand between his two, gently curled her fingers over the coins, and then held her hand firmly, and . . . tenderly. Both of them lingered, then Jasmin subtly made to retract her hand, and Lee released her. Neither of them had known that he was any longer capable of such a gesture. Both of them relished it.
"Thank you," Jasmin whispered, feeling dazed by the whole thing. She dropped the coins into her purse, then returned it to her case.
"Aw'ight," Lee said with almost equal quietude. He tried reverting to their customary form. "Nevah come heah again," he said. He tried, but they were only just words.
"That's fine with me," Jasmin replied, but with her too, they were only just words. She collected her things. She was still dazed. Still confused. "I'll see you Friday."
"Aw'ight, goo' bye," Lee said. He was himself dazed, and confused, even though he was able to manage his usual, dismissive wave.
Jasmin left the shop on mental autopilot, and wandered a few steps into the building's front lobby. Her eyes weren't really seeing anything of the public transportation commuters who were beginning to arrive for work in a thin, but steady stream. She sipped absently at her unwanted coffee, her mind ablaze with wondering about what had happened in the coffee shop.
Normally she'd never have tolerated such . . . advances? or was it attention? She had to conclude that it had been neither, yet both, at the same time. She really couldn't tell what it was, but she never would have tolerated it . . . tolerated it? she never would've even received it from another man. And from a crusty old bugger like Lee? That really floored her. Was it just her body that the old man was reacting to, or was it something else? If something else, then what?
Throughout all of these ruminations, what bothered her the most was the feeling that an increasingly significant part of her accepted Lee's behavior with complete aplomb. What was that all about? she wondered. Was it her new sense of peace? No, she concluded after brief reflection, although she could feel that it was somehow coupled with it. This was something different, something altogether new. A feeling - no, a . . . knowledge that not only was what the old man had done both right, and proper, but that there had been no other mode of conduct possible for him.
Jasmin banished these thoughts in preparation for tackling the next hurtle to her getting to work; the security guards. After ditching the remainder of her coffee in a nearby trash bin, she approached the desk the guards were seated behind. Both of them had their eyes lowered, being busy with either writing, or watching a monitor. She took this opportunity to place the bag of treats in her customary spot; right under their noses.
One of the guards stopped what he was doing to look at the bag. After a moment, he consulted his watch to check the date.
"Well, it's definitely not Friday," he observed casually, and then, as he began looking up to observe their benefactress, "but it must be . . . ," he found himself having to continue to look up to observe the benefactress before he could intone with muted shock, " . . . Miss Jing?"
In an effort to minimize the obviously stupefying impact of her presence upon the guard, Jasmin smiled shyly, and gave him a little wave of her hand. She then looked over to the other guard.
"Good morning, Ed," she offered tentatively.
Ed diverted his attention from the monitor he was watching to visually acknowledge her.
"Good morning, Miss . . . ," he said, and then Ed also found himself having to continue looking up in order to observe, " . . . Jing?"
The corners of Jasmin's mouth pursed.
The first guard asked her carefully, "Could I see some identification, Miss . . . ?"
"Jing," Jasmin stated quietly, completing the sentence for him when he'd paused. She unclipped the badge from her skirt, and presented it to, "Jack."
Jack took the badge, and looked at the picture, and name, on its front side, then returned his eyes to, "Miss Jing?"
"Yes," Jasmin answered with a smile, and a gracious nod.
Jack turned the badge over, and studied the stats on its backside.
"You are not . . . four foot eleven, and a half inches tall," he noted.
Jasmin momentarily diverted her eyes.
"Mmm-no," she quietly replied.
Jack raised his eyes again, and briefly surveyed the portion of the young Asian woman he could see beyond the waist high desk.
"And you don't look like you weigh ninety-four pounds," he observed.
"Mmmmm-no," Jasmin replied again with a slight shake of her head.
Jack showed the badge to Ed.
"Wha' do you think?" he asked his colleague
Ed took the badge, and compared the picture with the woman standing before them. After a moment, he returned it to Jack without comment, then took up the little white bag she'd placed in front of them. He opened the bag carefully, and subjected its contents to lingering scrutiny, then passed the open bag to Jack who took a look for himself at what was inside. The two guards eyed each other, then slowly returned their gaze to Jasmin.
"But you definitely are Miss Jing," said Ed thoughtfully.
Jasmin paused an awkward moment, then offered a little smile.
"Yes," she acknowledged.
Jack extended the badge across the desk to her.
"You should get the information on your badge undated, Miss Jing," he advised.
Jasmin took the badge, and clipped it onto her waistband again.
"Yes," she said timidly. "I will."
Both of the guards continued observing her as though they were unable to look away. Their unyielding gaze only gave Jasmin something else to feel nervous about.
"You look . . . very nice today, Miss Jing," Jack commented at length.
Jasmin blushed, and averted her eyes. It was happening again. People who knew her were reacting in a completely different manner toward her. Granted, she looked shocking to everyone who encountered her, and especially to those who'd known her before she'd changed, but this particular reaction. It wasn't lust, and it wasn't fear. It wasn't . . . anything she was familiar with, and she sorely wished that her new sense would help her understand, or, at least, allow her to feel less ill-at-ease about it. She glanced back at the guards, and managed a self conscious little, "Thank you."
"Thanks for the doughnuts, Miss Jing," Ed offered with a smile as he looked up at her.
Jasmin was grateful to see the look of old, and friendly, familiarity in the Ed's face. Jack also seemed to recover from his shock.
"Does this mean that we won't be seeing you Friday?" he wondered in joking reference to the treats.
"Well," Jasmin replied thoughtfully, feeling herself relaxing more, "only if you're good."
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