Secret Shopper (5 page)

             
A petite Asian female was posted at the register. She was busy taking sandwich orders. My physical assessment skills kicked in. Her name tag read, Alma, and she had a jet black blanket of hair, which reached her waist. I coveted that hair. My hair could never decide whether to be curly or straight, hovering somewhere in between. It was very thick thanks to my Asian lineage, but something in the mix with my dad’s Chamorro DNA made my
blah
-brown hair very temperamental. Alma obviously didn’t make the subs, at least for today, since she wasn’t donning the required hair net. She was all of barely five feet tall. She wore gold hoop earrings and what looked like a Swatch.
Did they still make those things?
Her pink t-shirt was form fitting with Bag It in bold letters across her petite chest. Then I looked behind her and ascertained my target.

             
As described, Thomas was a tall, lanky Caucasian twenty something male. I saw tufts of honey colored hair underneath his red baseball cap. He wore it backwards, his substitute for a hair net I presumed. He was hunched over severely, hands busy with food. I guess the counter was too low for his height. He worked diligently at making sandwiches. A statuesque woman emerged from the back. She must be Tamara I thought to myself. Side by side, Tamara and Thomas were indeed siblings. She too hunched a bit, like she didn’t want to be noticed. She had a lovely square face, with fine features and light colored eyes. It was hard to see them behind her black rectangle framed spectacles. I could tell that she was one who downplayed her natural beauty. I loved women who did that, like my Rachel.

Rachel could roll out of bed in her boyfriend’s shirt—whoever the flavor of the month was—and look stunning. Her ebony hair was always layered just right. She wore it just past her shoulders. Rachel was known to experiment on occasion with her hair and her make-up, but she was one who could look gorgeous even with no hair. The image of a bald person dragged me back to the night Bradley shaved his head and got his first tattoo, a tribal tattoo to match his hunk make over. His face filled my mind, threatening the tears to burst. I did a mental mind swipe and got back to work.

Tamara kept her hands on her waist and looked like Wonder Woman as she surveyed her restaurant. She smiled, perhaps more to herself and seemed pleased that the shop was busy even on a Sunday. She whispered something to Thomas and they both giggled. It was cute to see them interact, and I missed my kid brother then.

I still had five people in front of me so I finalized my decision settling on the
Rock Lobster Sub
. I made a mental note to return as a regular patron if the sandwich was scrumptious. I watched Thomas intently. He seemed unconcerned by his surroundings, working on the task at hand, maybe wanting to be somewhere else. He wore a plain gray t-shirt and blue jeans. I couldn’t see his footwear, which would give me a gage to the type of person he was. Sneakers,
laid back
. Running shoes,
sporty
. Loafers,
old man at heart
. Barefoot,
disgusting
. Guam
zoris
aka flip flops,
cheating, lying bastard
. Wait, that was Bradley.

About the time that Bradley busted my heart, I started caring about the people I evaluated and wanted to understand what motivated them to offer good service or not. I always wondered who they were, what they did when they left their place of work, what car they drove, what astrological sign they were…a ton of questions. There had to be an explanation as to why one person was a jerk and another a saint. I wondered too if I really knew my husband. What would motivate him to cheat and end our marriage after over a decade together? Did our relationship get stale? Did I lose my allure? Did our time together run its course? 

I wasn’t sure if I would get to see Thomas in action, since Alma was manning the counter at that moment. When the line decreased by three, Thomas approached the counter, but kept his eyes downcast. He placed what looked to be a turkey avocado bacon sub, on a tray for an awaiting customer. That must have been the
Caddy Classic
, number 2 on the menu. He didn’t even make eye contact with the young woman, who was obviously attractive in a Megan Fox kind of way. Thomas just slid the tray to her and brusquely asked what kind of chips she wanted for her meal. Three of the men in the line glanced over at this woman often. She must have been barely legal and obviously unaware of the affect she was having in the room, or at least pretending not to notice. I, on the other hand, was keenly aware that I was not causing any ripples with any of the male specimens here.

I was still a married woman, one who wore her wedding ring like it would ward of any evil spirits trying to tear apart the last shred of her marriage. Even with the knowledge that I was at my high school weight of 130, I was a woman in limbo. I couldn’t move on, not that I wanted to, because the man I loved had put me on a time out. Bradley said I should try dating since he was doing that with Jem, but I couldn’t bring myself to even start. I had no dating experience beyond what I knew with Bradley. I felt so old-fashioned, so out of it. I was clueless as to the dating realm in this day and age aside from what I saw on the tube. And what I saw was that everyone was dating everyone else after a mere hello.

I agonized over the prospect of being a divorcée, but I also wanted my marriage to be fixed or broken, not in between. If Bradley was certain about Jem being his soul mate, then I wished he would just declare that instead of keeping me on the side in case he changed his mind. I was thankful that I was wearing my large sunglasses. My eyes welled up. I looked into my purse for a tissue when someone tapped my shoulder.

“He’s ready for you.” A Navy chief dressed in his crisp khaki uniform pointed to Thomas. Culver—I read his nametag with my special ninja move. Bruce Lure taught us to see without seeing. The Chief was perhaps ten years older than me. He had warm chocolate brown eyes and he smiled a bright white smile. I made many assessments of his physical features, which I was getting very good at since taking on this secret shopping business. It happened whether I liked it or not. I could tell you the outfits and hairstyles of my librarian for the past month if you really wanted to know.

I offered
el Jefe
a half smile as thanks. If the kind Chief was flirting with me at all, I couldn’t tell. Bradley plucked me from the grapevine so early that I never developed a sense of my feminine powers. I didn’t know how to
work it
so to speak.

About a year before I was engaged, I went out to a karaoke club with Rachel. We were both eighteen, which used to be the legal drinking age on
Guam. I think it should have been twenty one, but maybe that’s because my cousin died after he got drunk and plowed into a concrete power pole on his eighteenth birthday. A couple of military guys flirted with us, at least that’s what Rachel said. She kept nudging me to mingle with them, even though I was only on a break with Bradley for the weekend. We had one of our first major blowouts, but Rachel took that as a pass for me to meet other men.

One of the men, Isaac, was decent looking. His blue eyes I remembered the most. He jokingly asked me to show some teeth, give him a smile. So, I did. I looked like a lioness baring my chompers and the look on his face was that of shock. I realized that Chief Culver was still eyeballing me as he cleared his throat and tilted his head at me towards Thomas.

“Oh, sorry, sir.” I stepped forward two paces and was suddenly looking at my Tuesday target. Maybe my dark sunglasses allowed Thomas to look directly at me, but I was sure he couldn’t see my eyes. I was speechless for a second as I looked at Thomas’s face. Seeing it whole for the first time was like seeing an entirely different person. His eyes were definitely gray and the opposite of creepy. He gave me a half smile, which made his eyes crinkle a bit. His height was intimidating when he corrected his posture. I shook my head to come out of my trance as Thomas cleared his throat. He waited for me to make a move. That move was to pick a sandwich.

“Sorry, can I get the Gua, I mean the, uh, Rock Lobster Sub?” I posed it as a question like he would tell me no.

“Sure. The works?” He asked, his face returning to a stoic mask. I nodded to affirm this and then he asked, “What size?”

“Oh, there are sizes?” I was really distracted today.

Thomas tapped his pen impatiently on his yellow notepad. I looked up at the board again and saw at the very top of the menu the three sizes
: Just need a snack
,
Fill me up
and
Give it to me good
. As tempted as I was to tell Thomas,
Give it to me good
, I couldn’t do it. I gave him a crooked smile instead. I wanted to maintain my weight loss with the hopes that Bradley might take me back, so I asked for the snack size. Thomas requested my name, his voice strumming my chest so unexpectedly. I said, “Sirena.”

Bruce recommended that we had a set list of fake monikers ready. I decided on Sarah for everything because of my love of Sarah McLachlan, but my brain froze. I must have been missing
Guam, as I offered the name of my favorite Chamorro legend instead.

“
S-i-r-e-n-a
.” Thomas spelled the name of the legendary mermaid correctly, without hesitation. I watched the long creamy fingers of his left hand jot down my fake name in capital letters. He looked at me more closely and it seemed like he wanted to ask me something, but closed his plump lips instead. Maybe I wasn’t worth the question.

Thomas nodded his head and proceeded to the sandwich creating station.
Alma waited for me to pay, her childlike smile greeting me. She rang up the order correctly and provided my receipt. I stood along the wall with the other customers, eagerly and hungrily awaiting our delights from Thomas the sandwich monger. I wondered why he was the only person actually making sandwiches. Maybe that was Tamara’s intent, keep us waiting, so in our starved state we would rave about how delectable the subs were. Everything tasted better if you let yourself get hungry enough, right?

Almost ten minutes later, while I checked for a text from Bradley, Thomas sang out, “Si, Si –Rey-na.” He sang the distinct tune for the
Sirena
song by Johnny Sablan, a Guam singer. Was it Thomas who had been to Guam? If I wasn’t on assignment, I would ask him about it, my curiosity piqued. My Guam pride strengthened now that I lived away from my home. Tamara looked amused that her brother was singing out my name, well my fake name. She hit him playfully on his arm and his faced transformed to a thing of beauty. Earlier, with his small smile I was only witnessing a flower bud, but now his face was natural and in full bloom. I surprised myself when an electric shock ran through my body, tickling the dormant places of my body. This was not a reaction I ever had for a man since being with Bradley.

Once Bradley chose me and we were together, I switched all those feelings off. I never lusted for another, never felt I needed to. Any tingles and feelings of desire were solely for Bradley. Even though Thomas stirred something in me, I wasn’t one to flirt or make my attraction known. I still held on to the hope that Bradley would come back to me.

Thomas didn’t look at me as I walked to the counter. Maybe he assumed I had no connection to Guam, since I wasn’t bronze or have ebony hair. His laughing eyes and flushed cheeks were reminiscent of someone. I couldn’t place the face, but I lingered a few seconds longer to watch him. I heard Tamara ask about the song and Thomas just shrugged and glanced quickly at me before he returned to the sandwich making counter. Alma smiled at me and raised her eyebrows, perhaps wondering if I wanted something more.

“He’s single by the way. At least for this week.”
Alma commented, tilting her head back in Thomas’s direction. I noticed that Chief Culver turned his attention to us when Alma declared this. I didn’t know if she was serious about my chances with a man like that or just teasing. I opted for the latter possibility and got flustered. I hoped that Thomas didn’t hear Alma.

“Huh?” I was shocked back into reality. “No, I, um, I’m married.” I waved my left hand at her and grabbed my bagged sandwich. I bolted and wished my heels didn’t clack loudly as I exited. How could she even think I was interested? Was I really staring at him for that long? And, I was still married, technically.

I retreated to the safety of my Rav4, which I parked behind the strip mall. I didn’t want to be identified and on the field agent tips, parking away was highly suggested. I removed my jacket and unbuttoned the top two buttons of my silk blouse. I sat in my car, breathing heavily from the idea of even dating anyone again, Chief Culver—whom I noted did not have a wedding band on or Mr. I’ve Been to Guam Thomas.

I pulled out my Blackberry for the umpteenth time to check for a text or message from Bradley. I didn’t notice the approaching footsteps as I was about to check my voicemail. A light tapping on my window made me jump like a skittish colt. I immediately threw my jacket over my Lure documents and looked up slowly. I saw a gray t-shirt marked with the Bag It name. It was Thomas. My shirt was unbuttoned to my bra and it must have looked like I was having a hot flash. It was warm now that noon loomed. I didn’t hit the button to roll my window down, but yelled through the glass instead.

“Yes!?” My mind raced as I thought of reasons why he would knock on my window. He tapped each of his fingers on my window again. This time he lowered his face to look in. I saw the gold necklace and pendant that was described by a previous field agent. The pendant was intricate and beautiful. It looked like a Celtic symbol I once saw on a CD. Yes, I went through an Irish music phase in college. Thomas had an amused look on his face. I felt like a caged gorilla being gawked at by zoo visitors. Maybe he had a banana for me?
Wow! My mind had not been in the gutter in a long time, even my dirty jokes were limp.