2.
Pam was freezing.
The driver had the air-conditioner in the bus set to arctic (all the blue-haired ladies had complained that they were hot) and all she had on was the little sleeveless black dress she had carefully chosen for what was supposed to be a romantic weekend with Roy. They never did anything like this….took a trip together to a romantic destination.
She had spent the last week at work daydreaming about eating in fancy restaurants and strolling hand-in-hand down the boardwalk. She thought it would be fun to go gambling together. She’d blow on the dice for luck and he’d kiss her in front of everyone when he won big. Pam should have known better. This was Roy after all.
It had started out great. They had driven to the beach in Roy’s truck, listening to cheesy country-western music and singing along. When they went through the McDonald’s drive in, they had both gotten happy meals and chocolate shakes. He even seemed like he could be convinced to set a date for the wedding.
When they arrived in Atlantic City, though, everything changed. Instead of a romantic getaway, Pam discovered that Roy’s entire softball team and half of the guys from the warehouse were here for a weekend of debauchery to “celebrate” Chuck’s divorce. Instead of a wine-list or tickets to a show, Roy had handed her two rolls of quarters, slapped her on the ass and told her to go get lucky on the slots with the promise that they’d go out to dinner Saturday night.
She had spent the day alone, sketching people on the beach and then had gone back to the hotel to dress for her special evening with Roy. She had wanted a weekend, but she’d take an evening. She dressed carefully, telling herself that if she curled her hair, put on some extra makeup and applied Roy’s favorite scent to all of her pulse points, he would turn back into the guy she fell in love with and they could salvage this. She felt pretty.
He stumbled into their room at seven….drunk and reeking of cigar smoke.
“Pammy, why are you dressed up?”
“I thought….I thought we were going for dinner. You promised me that---“
“Yeah, Pammy. We’re meeting the guys at the buffet. They’ve got crab legs tonight and we’re betting on how many Lonny can eat. It’s going to be fun. And maybe after, we can come up here and I’ll show you a really good time.” He was leering at her now and suddenly she felt naked and stupid instead of beautiful and special.
“Roy.”
“C’mon, Pam…don’t ruin this weekend. You’re the one always bitching about how we never do anything.” Something in her snapped. She couldn’t be here in this room with its promise of romance any longer.
“Roy. I’m leaving. I’m going back to Scranton”
“How are you going to get back to Scranton? I’m sure as hell not taking you.”
“I’ll take the bus or something. I’m not staying here.”
“Fine. Have it your way….always have to make this about you, don’t you Pam.” He slammed the door on his way out. She called for a cab to the bus station, grabbed her overnight bag and a handful of bills Roy hadn’t gambled away yet and headed out into the warm Atlantic City night.
Now she was here on this nasty-smelling Greyhound, curled up in her seat crying silent tears as she watched the lights of Scranton appear in the distance. It was four in the morning and she had no idea how she’d get home from the bus station. Maybe she could call Jim. He’d come and pick her up.
She was crying for a lot of reasons. She cried because Roy didn’t appreciate her. She cried because she should have known better. She cried because she was back in Scranton instead of somewhere where the air smelled like sea-salt and taffy.
Mostly, though, she cried because she knew that come Monday, Roy would be back with flowers, a sheepish grin, an apology and dinner at Anna Maria’s. She cried because she knew that this was her life.
