Sitting in a room that seems to have 50 times the square footage of my entire house, on the 5th row from the top, I can see everyone below me but the last person I pay any attention to is the professor at the bottom. The girl seven rows before me looks like she woke up before the sun, with blonde streaked beach waves falling from her braid, wrapped around her head like a crown. The irony of the girl to her right who looks like she woke up with ten minutes before this class started, wearing a beanie finding her palm to be a perfectly good pillow in the middle of this lecture about the laws against prostitution. I could never be a prostitute I think too much bang for your buck I chuckle out loud at my joke, if I don’t who will? Now I’m distracted by the scent of bad body odor, for a second I’m self-conscience about my own odor and I can’t remember whether I put on deodorant or not but then I notice a guy beside me opened his gym bag to pull out his phone charger (I judge him ever so slightly for having a Samsung, he’s probably super techy). Almost everyone has their laptop out, none of which are actually taking notes, I can see three people playing box head, five people on tumblr and a whopping 14 people just making those blue squares appear on their desktop page. The only reason my lap top is open, is because I’d rather have my hands resting on a key board than the table in front of me. My attention falls back on my professor as he’s pacing back and forth without talking, did he notice no one was listening? Did he ever really think we were listening? Then the short round man pushes up his glasses with a huff and looks at the ground shaking his head as if trying to remember something. My laptop makes the noise notifying me that I got an iMessage. It’s my manager from Starbucks, asking if I can come in early this afternoon at three; it’s already two thirty but if I leave now I can make it. I decide this lecture isn’t more important than an extra two hours on the clock so I pack up and leave.
On a bus that smells like sweat and urine, but I’d rather that than the other thing you do in the washroom. Now picking at my nails making a mental note to get them done after work, whenever I get fake nails no one can even tell because I ask for then to be as short as my real nails, I can’t do my everyday duties with unrealistically long nails. I look out the windows and can see the smog blurring out the hills of northern California, maybe the pollution here is getting out of hand. I watch as a girl who looks like she couldn’t have seen more than thirteen summers light a cigarette and hope her mom doesn’t find out. Finally at my stop, I swing my green and brown backpack around and over one shoulder, trapping most of my hair under my strap; I’m used to it. As I’m standing at the back doors of the bus before they open I look down at my converse and realize my shoe lace is untied. Stepping off the bus I bend down to tie my shoe and my blue jean’s button pops open and my belly button feels free for the first time all day. Quickly fixing the wardrobe malfunction I look up and find my co-worker with his face pressed up against the glass window on the door giving me a creepy yet welcoming smiling. I hit him with an equally as creepy double eyebrow wiggle. I love how silly I can act at this job, and no one will think I’m actually silly, they’ll just think I’m cute and corky.
“That’s cute” Jeff says while holding the door open for me to walk through, “I know” I say back without making eye contact. Jeff is a good looking man who always has the right amount of stubble, hair colour that matches the coffee we make, not quite an afro but pretty curly. His eyebrows thick and unkempt above his hazel coloured eyes, his smile is super cute but he’s such a goof ball that I could only think of him as a little brother. I throw my black t-shirt over my tank top and wrap the apron around my waist. Sara is working today, and she always has positive vibes and makes me appreciate life a little more every time I see her. With her blonde hair below her ears, she greets me with a warm smile that causes her blue eyes to squint a little. She has a tattoo of the solar system, with the sun on her left elbow and all the planets placed on rings circling the center. I couldn’t be happier working with these two.
I’m on a break with Sara and we’re sitting on the wooden deck, she’s sipping a green tea with her legs crosses and I’m having a black coffee. We’re sharing a laugh while reminiscing all the times we purposely pronounce people’s name wrong when I get a text from a woman who works at my other job. She says she won’t be able to make her shift tonight and wants me to take it for her, I debate for a couple second but agree that I can never make too much money in one day so I take her up on her offer. I need to be on stage by ten so I need to make sure Jeff can drive me home fast. All my clothes, or lack thereof, is already in a canvas bag because I’m always on call for my night job.
I get home at 9:45, if I take my bike I can make it in time. “Hey Ella, where yea going, sweetie?” my mother asks, “I promised some friends that I would meet up with them for some drinks.” I respond walking right by her in our crowded kitchen. My mom takes a break from washing the dishes in the huge sink as I back track a couple steps to pick up a couple tangerines. “Why are you in such a rush?” inquiring while wiping her hands, “they are already at the bar, mom, I don’t wanna miss anything.” and I close the door behind me as I enter the garage from our kitchen. I take my fixed-gear bike off the metal hooks on the concrete walls, and I’m off at least 55 miles an hour. I like going fast, it’s dangerous but it blurs everything around me out and does the opposite for my mental space, gives me room to think. I’m thinking about how far I’ve come turn left with my mom, she hasn’t given me shit for a while about going out, that’s just the beauty in growing up turn right I guess. Ok I should be thinking about something more productive. So no school tomorrow speed bump perfect time to get my nails done turn left I’ll ask Alex to come with me, she probably needs a manicure as well. Now I’m turning into a laneway where I enter through a backdoor. The same security guard gives me the same cut eye for bringing my bike in but I don’t trust people on this side of the city.
My bike is resting against the wall and now my regular clothes resting at the bottom of this grey locker. I slip on my pink string-like bottoms, this colour looks a lot better on me when I had a tan. I should plan a day to go to the beach soon, maybe with my mom – I feel like I never hang out with her anymore. As I pull my top over my head that cuts off right under my nipple, Amanda walks into the room. She’s one of my favourite girls who work here, today just keeps getting better and better! “Hey girl!” she says with her southern accent. “Hey Mandy, I didn’t know you were working tonight.” She doesn’t like being called Mandy (says it just doesn’t sound right) but I call her that partly to mess with her; mostly because it adds some innocence to what it sounds like we do here. Without acknowledging the nickname she says, “I didn’t know you were either” then she dropped her leather bag with tassels from her broad shoulder, she was the only girl I knew who could pair that bag with a pair of low cut pale pink cowboy boots and a short jean jacket and still look cool and casual. “Yea, I don’t usually work on Tuesdays, I’m covering Amy’s shift. God knows why she couldn’t make it.” Before responding Amanda already had her floral sun dress on its way over her head. “I know why couldn’t make it too.” She replied while bringing one finger up to her nose, closing nostril with it and sniffing the air, I could only laugh in agreement.
NOW PRESENTING …. CANDI DARLING
I strut out onto the stage, using my best bedrooms eyes and scan over every man in the audience until one man stops me dead in my tracks. My round, bald headed, four eyed Professor.
