--------------------------------------------------------------------
Part Five
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Fifteen minutes later, they reached the apartment complex. Robbie rattled the steel caged door which led to the foyer. It didn’t budge.
“Figures.”
“What?” Amir was out of breath from the short walk but pretending not to be.
Robbie squinted up to the fourth floor window, where Judy lived, “She has to buzz us in.”
“Like in Star Trek?”
Robbie didn’t take his gaze off the window, “Yes Amir, exactly like Star Trek.”
“ITS ME, JUDY.” He yelled at the tinted glass pane, knowing she was watching. “OPEN THE DAMN DOOR.” Several passerby turned and stared.
“I think we should have nicknames,” Amir blurted.
Robbie cast him a sideways glance. “I already have a nickname, Amir.”
“Okay fine, I think that I should have a nickname.”
Robbie screamed a few more obscenities at the window for good measure.
“Before you say anything, hear me out.” Amir had obviously been giving this some thought.
Robbie gave it some thought. “No.”
The speaker crackled, “There’s an intercom for a reason, asshole” The door buzzed open and they entered the foyer. In true college slacker fashion, Amir kicked the UP elevator button, kung-fu style.
“Oh c’mon man, nicknames are fun! They promote friendship and closeness.”
Robbie turned on him, “You’ve never had a nickname, have you?”
“No.”
“And you’ve always wanted one.”
“Guilty as charged.”
The elevator door dinged open. Robbie pressed the button marked 4th Floor. Amir pressed the rest of the buttons with a quick successions of extremely lame kung-fu kicks. Slightly out of breath and full of the devil-may-care energy all douchebags seem to possess, he grinned at Robbie, who muttered quick apologies to the other three occupants of the elevator, a trio of elderly women who quickly busied themselves with glaring at Amir.
“We live on the fifth floor.” Old Lady #1 said slowly, taking great care that each syllable conveyed her disapproval as the elevator door slid shut.
“So any ideas? I was thinking something in the Animal Kingdom. You know. Like, a bird of prey or something.” Robbie couldn’t tell if Amir was oblivious or just ignoring the Old Lady Trifecta. Knowing him, it could be either.
The elevator opened to the first floor. One of the old ladies tried to get out, and had to be held back by her friends.
“No, Doris, you live on the fifth floor, remember?”
“This IS the fifth floor!”
The door closed again. “No, it’s the first floor. Those boys just pressed all the buttons.” Old Lady #2 spared Robbie a poisonous sneer.
“Oh? Oh!” Doris got with the program and assumed her best Young-People-These-Days-Have-No-Manners glare.
Those boys? Robbie opened his mouth to protest but Amir interjected.
“What do you think of ‘Verge’”?
The elevator door slid open. Doris gathered her bags and attempted to exit again. Her friends held her back absently.
“Doris, this is the second floor.”
“I live on the second floor!”
Robbie tried his best to ignore them, but the overwhelming stench of mothballs and flowery perfume that all women over 70 seem to emanate was rapidly filling the elevator and making him lightheaded. “Verge? What are you on the verge of?”
The elevator door slid shut again, “That’s not the point. It just sounds cool.”
Robbie thought, “What do you mean there’s no point? Of course there’s a point. You can’t just pull a nickname from your ass.”
Amir frowned, “Fine. What about ‘Edge’?”
“We’re missing Jeopardy, I think.” Old Lady #2 proclaimed loudly enough to make Robbie wince, as if this was just a casual observation. She consulted her oversize gold watch, “Yes, we’re missing it alright. It’s been on for two minutes now.”
“Oh dear, I hope we don’t miss Double Jeopardy,” lamented Old Lady #1 pathetically, “I do enjoy Double Jeopardy so very much.”
The elevator door dinged open to the third floor. Old Lady #1 clamped a bony hand around Doris’ knobby wrist to keep her from escaping.
“Edge? Verge? Since when do you have a thing for thresholds?” Robbie asked.
The elevator door closed. Amir sighed patiently. “No, you don’t get it. It’s saying I have an edge to my personality. Like I’m all crazy dangerous and could snap at any moment.”
Robbie cast a critical eye over the 5’ 7” bespeckled Indian teenager in front of him, who probably weighed a buck twenty five soaking wet, tops.
“I think you should stick with ‘Verge’.”
“Oh, you like Verge now? Killer!”
Robbie groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. The Old Lady Trifecta glared on. Amir twiddled his thumbs and hummed a few bars of “Your Body Is A Wonderland” by John Mayer.
The elevator door dinged open to the fourth floor. Robbie, glad for the chance to escape the noxious Old Lady stench, stepped out into the hallway and took a deep breath.
“So just to clarify, you’re gonna call me Verge in front of Cary, yes?” Amir asked pleadingly.
“No.”
“Oh c’mon dude---”
“Young people today.” Old Lady #2 stated haughtily as the elevator door began to close. “No respect for their elders.”
Amir whirled around, “Oh go play bridge, you bitter old hags.”
Old Lady #1 and #2 pursed their wrinkly lips and flipped him the bird. Robbie blinked in surprise. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Yes, they were still being given the one-finger salute by a pair of octogenarians.
“Hold the elevator! This is my floor!” wailed Doris as the doors slid shut.
Someone coughed behind them. Robbie turned to find Judy and Cary standing in the hallway, wearing identical slack-jacked expressions.
Robbie cleared his throat. “I can explain that.”
"Hello ladies," Amir slicked back his hair and proffered a hand, “They call me Verge.”
