Unaware of her boss’s philosophizing, Polly shuddered. “One time I ended up in bed with this guy who was trying to decide whether or not to enter a Catholic seminary, or whatever you call Priest School. I thought I’d provided a pretty convincing four-hour case against celibacy, but the next day he called and said he would pray for me.”
“Wow. You tipped someone over into the priesthood?”
Polly shrugged. “Maybe he thought after me it was all downhill, and he might as well devote himself to giving back to the world, after the world had given him one incredible night with me.” There was no hint of sarcasm in her voice, no self-deprecation at all.
Liz and Nina stared at her.
Polly was shameless. “Or maybe the whole thing was an elaborate ruse to get me into bed. He didn’t realize he could have simply asked. I was in one of my ‘say yes to everything’ phases.” Polly wasn’t overconfident; she was simply one of those women who tore up the societal memo about being underconfident. Nina had never envied her more.
“I remember the last one of those,” said Nina. “You broke your big toe trying out for Roller Derby.”
“Yes. It turns out tiny wheels are not my friends.”
“And got food poisoning after eating a grasshopper.”
“Yes, although in the grasshopper’s defense, I did also have sushi that weekend.”
“And slept with a mime.”
“Yes,” said Polly. “It was great. Quiet, but great.” She looked thoughtful. “Once he got out of that imaginary box, he really blew my doors off.”
Again, Liz and Nina stared at her, and then Nina said, “Look, as far as I’m concerned, this whole conversation is a firm reminder that I’m better off alone. I’m totally happy, I like my own company, and I already have to integrate a load of new relatives. I’m going back to quiet evenings at home and eating healthy and getting to the gym and cutting out sugar.”
“Well that’s unfortunate,” said Polly, sticking her chin out defiantly, “because I was going to tell you about the fantastic new waffle house I found and now I won’t.”
Liz laughed. “Tell me instead,” she said. “I love waffles.”
“Ah, Ms. Quinn.”
They all froze, then Polly and Nina got to their feet. Mr. Meffo had somehow crept up on them, and the landlord was now standing there twirling his mustache and getting ready to tie one of them to the railroad tracks.
Actually, he was just standing there, smiling politely. He wasn’t a tall man, or imposing in any way, but apparently he had a stealth mode.
Liz gathered herself and smiled back at him. “Ah, how lovely to see you, Mr. Meffo. I’m so sorry I missed you the other day. I was meeting with representatives for J. K. Rowling, who is thinking of launching her next book here.” She paused, then doubled down. “It’s a surprise new installment of the Harry Potter series, so I think it might be good for business.”
“Really?” Mr. Meffo was not a big reader, but he wasn’t an idiot. “I find that challenging to believe.” He paused. “I’m here to collect the rent. I noticed it still hasn’t arrived in my checking account.”
“But I sent it! I sent it last week, after you visited.”
“You did?”
“Yes,” Liz said, firmly. “I instructed the bank to make the transfer. I’m so sorry there’s been a problem. I’ll contact them right away.”
Mr. Meffo smiled broadly. “No problem, you can write me a check here and now, and I’ll return the transfer if and when it arrives.”
Liz looked apologetic. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m all out of checks. I’ve ordered more, but they haven’t arrived yet.” She paused. “I requested the Hello Kitty ones; maybe they take longer.”
Mr. Meffo was still smiling, though it was clearly taking an effort. “We could walk to the bank and get a cashier’s check.”
“It’s our policy not to use cashier’s checks. Haven’t you read about all the scams?”
He looked puzzled. “That applies to sending money to people you don’t know, or have only met online. Not to paying your rent to the landlord you’ve had for over a decade.”
“Really?” Liz looked worried. “Better safe than sorry, don’t you think?” She turned to Polly, who nodded enthusiastically and leaned closer to Mr. Meffo.
“My aunt lost a fortune sending a cashier’s check to cover the bail for an Ethiopian prince who said he’d known her father at college,” she said, with an impressive level of commitment. “You can never be too careful these days. If you can’t trust an Ethiopian prince, who can you trust?” She smiled at the landlord. “Mr. Meffo, have you read any good books lately?”
Mr. Meffo had a bit of a soft spot for Polly, who he had once seen on a Tide commercial where she went—fully clothed—through a car wash. It had left a favorable impression.
“No, Polly, I haven’t.” He turned to Liz again, but she had disappeared.
He sighed and looked back at Polly. “Tell your boss she has one week to pay the rent or I’m looking for a new tenant. I’m getting tired of chasing her every month.”
Polly smiled at him sweetly, Nina made sympathetic noises, and Liz, who had dropped to the ground behind the counter, made a mental note to install a bell on the front door.
That evening Nina went to see Aliens with Leah, Lauren, and Carter. Occasionally, the trivia team went on field trips like this, and did their best not to talk trivia. They usually failed.
“You know, Ripley was nearly played by Meryl Streep,” Lauren said, as the lights went down.
“And the alien’s saliva is actually K-Y Jelly,” replied Carter.
“And the shots where the aliens are scrambling through the air ducts were actually filmed with the actors lowered on cables down a vertical shaft and the camera was at the bottom,” added Leah.
“Stop!” said Nina. “I want to actually enjoy the movie.” Then, a minute later, “Look, you can see the spear gun Ripley used in the first movie inside the escape pod door, there, on the floor,” to which the other three responded with thrown popcorn.
The thing about watching a classic like Aliens at the ArcLight in Hollywood is that every single movie fanatic there has seen the movie many, many times already. When Hicks said, “Game over, man!” so did everyone else, and when Newt said, “They come at night . . .” eight hundred people added, “mostly.” It was so much fun, and when the four friends came out of the theater after the movie, they were all giddy and giggling.
Despite that, when Nina saw Tom standing there, chatting with his friend Lisa, her first impulse was to panic and consider various avenues of escape. Then her frontal cortex resumed control and she smiled and went over to speak to him. Not a Xenomorph with acid for blood, just an attractive guy she’d already kissed and texted with. You can do this Nina, she told herself.
For his part, Tom had spotted her as soon as she came through the theater doors and couldn’t take his eyes off her now as she approached. He spoke first. “Hi there. You mentioned this was playing, and it’s one of my favorites, so, you know.”