Frank woke up in his classic brown recliner. It was a hand me down from his older brother. They used to be best friends, but they haven't talked in years.
His eyes pan from left to right in a disoriented gaze to try to find the clock on the wall. It's only 8 a.m., this is an early wake up for Frank. He tilts his head back in relief and exhales.
Is today the day he is going to change his life forever? The day he's dreamed about for so many years. He thinks he's doing well enough because he recently moved out of his parent's house. And in Frank's mind, that's quite the accomplishment. He saved thousands of dollars by living with them...thousands to buy a home...and start a family...all the shit he told them that he'd do that he never had a pure intention of actually doing. Instead he wasted a good part of the cash on weed and cheap booze.
Frank's a great liar.
He slowly straightens his black rimmed glasses on his face and runs his hand through his black hair. He smells his hand afterward...it's musty, but still not rotten enough to warrant a shower.
He has 30 minutes to get ready. It's time to punch the clock and get to his nine to five in at the office supply store that he works at as a cashier. It's enough time to fit in a shot of vodka and a wake 'n' bake. He fucking hates his job. It barely pays the bills and he stares at the clock for seven of the eight hours of the day.
But, there's this one girl who Frank thinks could be his type. Maybe he'll get the balls to talk to her today. He wonders if girls still like movies...it's been so long since he's been on a date, he doesn't even know how the hell to approach her. What would he say that could interest her?
Frank has an hour to figure it out...and if it isn't done today? There's always tomorrow...always tomorrow...