Scrapbook

Cute

I sit back in my chair as I finish yet another conference call. My pitch went over well and I'm sure there's a pretty high chance that at least one of my investors will adopt the plan. Whatever, normal business stuff, time to get back into regular clothes.

I let my eyes scan the floorboards of my house as I autopilot myself back to my bedroom. It seems like every day nowadays is the same. Wake up, business, business, business... sleep. Each day accompanied by the ever-growing dread that my life getting too monotonous for me to even be able to function.

I watch myself start to grab my lounge clothes. "No," I tell myself, "It's time to do something different. I need to get out of this house. It's time to explore the town." But how, exactly? I can't just walk outside, with my face being on every magazine within an immediate five-mile radius I would get noticed in a second.

Are sunglasses good enough?

Fuck it.

I grab my most stylish flannel and jeans and grab my most "I'm not a rich playboy" sunglasses. I check myself out in the mirror, not to bad. I should wear common people outfits more often.

Now for the transportation situation, I can't take my sportscar... okay sportscars, into town. Oh I know, I'll just take my bike. I half run half walk to my garage. From there I grab my bike from the rack on the wall and the bike lock right next to it and take it out of the side door. I feel a giddy smile grow across my face as it feels like I might be able to have a normal life for just five and a half seconds. I lift my foot onto the pedal and push myself down my driveway.

I haven't ridden this thing in like... ten years.

I feel myself wobbling like crazy as I desperately try to cling to the last bit of control I have. I start to stabilize. Just kidding, I fall off the bike. I quickly stand up and take a quick glance around me just to make sure no one saw, It's stupid but I guess it's just a habit I have from the paparazzi constantly catching every embarrassing moment. Nope, all clear.

I stand the bike back up and gently place my foot back on the pedal. Okay, let's take this slow. I slowly start to crawl forward, then faster, than faster. Soon enough I'm moving at a reasonable pace and feel fairly confident. Time to ride.

I watch as the large luxury houses of my neighborhood give way into large streets lined with shops and office buildings. I decide to diverge from the main road for fear of being run over and or noticed. I start to make my way around the side streets of the downtown area. It's odd to see how the mainstream shops disappear and are instead replaced by smaller, non-chain shops. Although nothing is catching my attention.

A couple more turns and a few blocks later I see a bike rack. I glide over to the curb and come to a halt. I roll my bike onto the sidewalk and maneuver it into the rack. I start to wrap the bike lock around it. Wait, I don't remember the code.

Wait, it's me.

D-I-C-K

I'm such an idiot.

With my newly lockable bike lock, I start to walk down the sidewalk towards the parts of the street I haven't explored yet. There are a lot of small boutiques, kids stores, and a bunch of other things I don't really care about. That's when I see it.

A small shop stands in front of me with old-timey print on the windows and small display stands.

Toys and Antiquities

I quickly maneuver towards the front of the shop without another thought in my head. I push the door open, hearing the chime of a metal bell covered in rust as I step in. Immediately I am surrounded by shelves and racks of tin toys and other old objects. The shop is dimly lit so I instinctively take off my sunglasses. I scan the shelves and gently run my hand over some of the objects. A hollow tin bus with scraped paint, then a wooden yo-yo with a frayed string, a bag of faded marbles, jacks, dolls, teddy bears and so on. Eventually, I wind up in the far corner of the store.