Summer's End

It was September of 2011, the end of Summer. The leaves were turning, the air was becoming chill, the days were getting shorter, and a lot of other stuff was happening that has nothing to do with the story, so I'll move on. One thing you do need to know is that school was back and that meant school kids would be quitting or cutting back on hours making way for new hires. This is how I met Rashaell.

     It was exactly one year after I started at Country Mart when I met her. September 15th. It was her third day and she was my sacker support for that night. I remember seeing her walk in. To quote Ted Mosby, "It was like something from an old movie. Where the sailor sees the girl across the crowded dance floor, turns to his buddy and says, 'see that girl? I'm going to marry her someday.'" For me it went more like this: I saw her walking in, I turned to a work buddy and said, "See that girl? She's hot!"

     "I don't know," he replied, "at best she's a 4."

     "Okay, dude. Your girlfriend isn't here, you can be honest."

     "Alright, yeah. She's hot."

     And hot she was, crude as that description may seem. She was of average height, thin, and had a light shade of brown hair. And her face, there was something distinctive about it. She didn't look like the cookie cutter high school girl you meet. She was unique.

     It was later that night before I actually talked to her and introduced myself. Upon exchanging names, I learned her name was Rashaell. "That's an interesting name," I said.

     "Well, 'Nash' isn't a name you hear every day either." She replied.

     "I like the name 'Rashaell' though," I said, "it sounds-"

     "Black?"

     "No?" I said, "What makes you say that?"

     "Oh, when my ex-boyfriend told his dad my name, he said, 'Is she a colored chick?'"

     "Oh man, no." I laughed, "If anything, 'Rashaell' is more of an Italian name." I waited for the joke to sink in, but she stood there with a look on her face clearly indicating she didn't get the reference.

     "How is it Italian?" She said.

     "You know, 'you made a long journey from Milan to Minsk. Rochelle, Rochelle?' Milan? It's a city in Italy? Seinfeld? You get it yet?"

     She clearly didn't. And for those of you reading that also don't get it, Rashaell is pronounced the same as Rochelle. On the TV show Seinfeld there is a fictional movie/Broadway show called, Rochelle, Rochelle - a young girl's strange, erotic journey from Milan to Minsk. In the Broadway musical, the feature song starts out, "You made a long journey from Milan to Minsk. Rochelle, Rochelle."

     After talking to her for a bit, I noticed that not only was she hot, but she was an all around awesome girl. She was easy to talk to, interesting to listen to, and she had a really great sense of humor despite not being a Seinfeld fan. We also had a lot in common. For example we shared a similar distaste for flat billed caps. She quickly became my favorite person to work with and days at work were always better when she was around. Though I didn't have any feelings for Rashaell at the time because I was still hung up on Kayla, that would soon change. I had finally met The Right Girl.