Part 26 (2/2)
”But...why?”
”I don't know.”
”Shouldn't someone have warned us?”
”You'd think so.”
I run tentative hands over myself, a.s.sessing the damage. ”Fletch, do you see little cartoon stars and birds flying around my head, too?”
He bends down to look in my eyes and places a hand on my forehead. ”Are you sure you're OK?”
”I'm kind of sc.r.a.ped and I got the wind knocked out of me, but I should be fine.”
”Good. You scared me.” The dogs want to comfort me but they're not willing to jump off the ledge to do so.177 Fletch leans down and gives me his hand. I right myself and brush all the dirt off my clothes. ”That was like base jumping, except without a parachute.”
”Yeah, one second you were right ahead of me, and the next you'd completely disappeared. Boom. Gone. Tiiiiimbeeeeeer!” I notice a twitch at the side of Fletch's mouth. Then he has a quick chest spasm. His eyes sparkle wetly and he coughs into his hand. How adorable is that? He's so concerned about my well-being that he's crying. He's more sensitive than I ever imagined. Bless him, he's trying to hide his tears.
I hug him as he silently quakes in my arms. ”Honey, it's all right to feel your feelings. Let it out. I'm just a little dirty and dazed, no worse for the wear. It was only a couple of feet-I couldn't have been hurt very badly.” I hear him suppress a snort. ”Really, I'm OK. I won't be leaving you anytime soon.”
This man is a saint.
He gasps and shakes harder. ”Fletch, I'm perfectly fine. You don't have to be so-Wait a minute. ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME?”
My temp a.s.signment is b.u.mping along. The job is unbelievably boring, but I have no right to complain about doing data entry when others are busy fighting a WAR right now. I recently got an e-mail from an Army officer who bought a DVD from me. He and his troops are stationed in Iraq, and they're buying up movies and books like crazy because between brief episodes of terror, there are LONG stretches of boredom. The officer told me everyone wants comedies because they all need to laugh right now. When I s.h.i.+pped his DVD, I also included a bunch of other funny movies and books. I figure they deserve this stuff, considering they'd probably give their eyeteeth to work a lousy temp job rather than being shot at.
I'm trying hard to make a good impression here because I'd like to land a permanent job with the company. I'm working really diligently and am not ashamed to brownnose the manager. He now loves me, although I can't say the same for others in the department.
I'm in a bathroom stall when I hear two coworkers enter.
”Her tan is ridiculous. Melanoma is never pretty. And what's up with her hair? Ten inches of blond and two of black? It's so natural...NOT!” says the one named Stephie. Yesterday I heard her and her cohort Angie prattling on about their upcoming trip to Cancn for HOURS. Stephie gloated about being such a great negotiator because she finagled a discounted rate for their September stay. Yeah, like it's real tough to get a lower rate during hurricane season. I had to put on my headphones and crank up Henry Rollins to drown out their incessant self-congratulations.
Angie adds, ”Did you see her bag? Nice Prada knockoff, sweetheart. Did the street vendor promise you it was real?”
The people at this company have been decent to me except for these two. Stephie and Angie resent me because we're all working on the same project and I'm showing them up. Of course, I don't spend half the day scheduling bikini waxes and shopping for swimsuits online, so I have a natural advantage.
I flush and exit my stall, positioning myself between them to wash my hands. I smile at each of their pale reflections in the mirror while I slowly line my lips and blot my nose. In the old days I'd have gone all Columbine on these girls. Now I'm finding it's kind of fun to take the high road.
I say, ”Enjoy your vacation, ladies,” as I exit the lavatory in the wake of their stammered apologies. Because, really? The idea of them cowering in their hotel's storm cellar during Hurricane Whatever is satisfaction enough.
However, when I get home, I am burning this bag.
Weblog Entry 7/6/03 'TIL IT HURTS I just received a lovely thank you letter from the Army Warrant Officer listed on my home page. I want to share an excerpt from his note in hopes that it will sway you to send the brave men and women in Iraq a nice treat.
Thank you for your generous care package. The books and DVDs will keep the troops entertained for weeks. It's really hard on the soldiers here; no showers, no flush toilets, or hot food. These are great Americans, these Army kids. I'm proud to be with them.
We are in Balad, Iraq, about one hour north of Baghdad and have been in the country three months. We travel all over Iraq, visiting Army medical units and repair medical equipment. It is getting very dangerous now. Hope I get my troops home safely.
Come on, don't you have a nice book or DVD that you'd like to donate, knowing the pleasure it would give these folks, especially when they're enduring these hards.h.i.+ps in the name of the United States?178 My temp a.s.signment has ended, so I'm back to tanning compulsively, freaking out about money, and spying on the neighbors. The Russian Army is almost done with construction on the McMansion next door. Since they apologized profusely and replaced the sidewalk,179 we've had no additional incidents.
I've not felt quite as much animosity toward them since I had a nice chat with the developer. He came to this country ten years ago with something like thirty-five cents in his pocket, and now he's building and selling million-dollar properties. He says he wants to write a book someday and tell his story because it will be an inspiration to the people back in his home country.180 Despite my best efforts, I rather like this guy and am going to have to find a new outlet for all my residual bitterness.
The developer told me that people already bought the place for something like $875,000. He says they're in their twenties and it's just the two of them. That blows my mind. How can two KIDS buy a house worth almost a million dollars in this economy?
Now that I think about it, I imagine these two will fill my bitter bill nicely.
To: [email protected] From: Kelly from Canada Date: July 12, 2003 Subject: Unemployed and bored Hey Jen; I'm sitting in front of the Internet at home. I'm unemployed, bored and just spent my remaining credit on a TJ Max tube dress. I was wondering if you have any advice on how to keep active, fit and fun while at the same time juggling VISA, VISA and VISA bills. My brown hair is growing in over the blonde and I'm going nuts.
Help!
Kelly
To: Kelly from Canada From: Date: July 12, 2003 Subject: RE: Unemployed and bored Hi, Kelly, Thanks for writing! The good news is that if you are still more worried about getting fat than getting evicted, you aren't yet at the hopeless stage. (The bad news is that it's coming.) Kudos on getting the dress...utility bills can wait up to three months before they are shut off (don't ask how I acquired this knowledge) but there's NO WAY that dress would still be there the next day. Generate your own electricity by wearing the dress for an evening out! Work it and maybe you can even score free drinks or, better yet, a rich boyfriend that can pay for stuff. (Did that sound s.e.xist? If so, I apologize. But surely women deserve some compensation for having to wear underwire bras.) The highlights are a big deal. You must do what you can to get them fixed. I understand that some of the drug store boxed colors are pretty good. I think they go on best when a friend helps you. I was going to try this route, and then remembered some of the paint jobs my friends had done in their apartments. No, thanks. (I still love you guys, but seriously, this is my hair we're talking about.) Anyway, I think you're best off calling the better salons in your area to find out if they have workshops/seminars where you can have a good colorist attack your head for $15 in the name of learning.
As for VISA, I say screw 'em. If you have no job, they can't call you at work to hara.s.s you for not paying. In my opinion, the only reason to pay them is to keep this from happening. So if you can avoid them now, I don't see a problem! Of course, if you aren't free-spirited enough to want to savage your credit rating, pay the minimums, but only after you've made sure you've taken care of your basic needs: food, shelter, and style.
Ac-tive? Fit? I'm sorry but I am unfamiliar with these terms.
I have the perfect solution to cure your boredom! My Rx is free, fun, and four-worded...
...The Price Is Right.
Best, Jen
”Guess what!” I exclaim, rus.h.i.+ng in from the deck.
Fletch raises a beleaguered eyebrow at me.181 ”Is this going to take a while? If so, can it wait? I want to get this”-he holds up his application and consent for background check-”faxed back to HR by four-thirty.” We are cautiously optimistic that Fletch will be getting this job. The hiring manager told Fletch they were going to make him an offer pending management approval, but it's been almost two weeks and, really? We've been down this road before.
He gets his last unemployment check this week and then we're officially screwed. If he doesn't land this job, we'll have to sublet our apartment and move in with my parents. My mother, who has zero faith in us, keeps telling me she's cleared out the drawers in the guest room. She's also saved the local paper's want ads because she feels it would be much easier to find a good job in a chiefly agricultural and industrial economy in a county of thirty-five thousand, rather than a metropolitan area of almost ten million. No delusions there.
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