Looking for You (Oh Captain, My Captain 1)

Ellie

I’m in the big city of Portland, Oregon. My boss sent me to meet with some doctors who are looking for a contract with us. The problem is I’m shaking so bad, I don’t think that I can do it. Yes, I can. I give myself a mental pep talk, in hopes that I can get myself out of this car.

I’ve worked for this medical supply company ever since I moved to Washington, which is almost a year. Wow, has it been almost a year, I think to myself.

I grew up in a small town in Idaho and was raised by my aunt, who died almost two years ago. After I settled up her affairs, I knew that I needed a fresh start. So, I applied for jobs in Washington and received an offer. Now, I live in a small town in Washington, right in between Seattle and Portland. However, I spend more time in my car than I do in either of the cities.

This is my first time in Portland. Actually, this is my first time that I will be conducting a meeting on my own. My boss, Jeffrey, is usually with me, but he’s on vacation. He gave me the pep talk before he left, which means he yelled at me loudly not to screw it up. He’s never been a calm man, but I know that, deep down, he has to be a good guy. I think anyway. Usually, he’s telling me to talk louder and stop being so quiet.

I know that I’m shy, but I need to prove myself to Jeffrey and this company. I count to ten, open my car door, and head into the building.

Forty-five minutes and one mild panic attack later, the contracts are signed. I did it on my own. That’s a huge accomplishment that I can mark off my list, and I’m only twenty-four. I know that doesn’t seem to be a big deal to some, but to me, it is. I feel like celebrating. I have no clue where to go, but I want to toast my accomplishment.

The first person that I call is my dear friend, Lacey. She works for a pharmaceutical company, and we met at seminar when I first started with my company.

“I didn’t doubt you for one moment,” she said.

“Well, I sure doubted myself.”

“You’re so silly. Hey listen, are you going home tonight? We could celebrate.” Lacey lives closer to Seattle, but we try to meet for drinks and dinner as often as we can.

“No, it’s getting late, and I don’t want to drive all that way in the dark. I’m just going to grab a hotel room and head back in the morning.”

“We’ll celebrate this weekend, then. But right now you need to go have yourself a big ‘ole drink, meet a hot guy, and get laid.”

“Oh my God.” Even though she can’t see me, I blush at her comment. Lacey has no trouble getting guys. Her long legs, olive skin, and deep green eyes, make men just fall at her feet. On the other hand, I was barely 5’4” and have skin the color of a ghost. My hair is mousy brown, and is more frizz than wavy. I think my only good feature is my golden brown eyes.

Lacey just laughs as I tell her that I’m hanging up on her, which I did. I jump on Google to try to find a nearby hotel. I put the address into my GPS and head off.

After I purchase the room and settle in, I change out of my business clothes. I’m so thankful that I packed a bag, just in case. I always try to be prepared as much as possible, not that it always works, but you never know when you might need something. I put on a pair of jeans, with a white button down shirt. I slip on my black jacket and a pair of black heels. I’ll do anything to make myself look taller. I have the coordination of a drunk clown on a unicycle. Therefore, my heels aren’t that high.

I go down to the hotel lobby and ask the clerk if there is a bar and grill nearby.

“Oh yes,” she coos. “There is one about two blocks up, called Jim’s. It’s a favorite local hangout for everyone.”

“Thank you,” I say, before heading out.

I walk down towards the bar and grill, enjoying the fresh air. I’ve always loved being outdoors. Running was my f

avorite. That’s one reason why I picked Washington. There is nothing like running a trail in the woods to clear your head.

I step into the bar and see that there aren’t too many people. I’m surprised considering that it’s happy hour. I sit at the corner of the bar when the bartender, a few years older than me, walks over.

“What can I get ya, sweetheart?”

“Um, a glass of white wine please?”

“Are you sure? Because you don’t sound sure.”

I smile. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Then I need to see your ID.”

I reach into my purse and pull it out of my wallet for him.

“Good grief, Jim. What’s up with all the carding you’re doing?” A guy a seat down from me asks.

“Mind your business. I’m trying to flirt with this pretty lady.”