Authors: Unknown
Date: 29 May
Mood: Quirky
After I read Billy's account of last night I debated on dousing her with cold water anyway just to get the point across that I didn't like her doing anything without the both of us discussing it beforehand. Then I saw the bruises on her face and where her nightshirt had shifted to show parts of her stomach. Seemed that fight she mentioned in passing wasn't so minor a scuffle after all, and she got a job, which was more than I could say for myself. So Billy lay sleeping, un-drenched, while I prepared for my own job hunt.
The first order of business, however, was breakfast, and we were out of the things needed for what I considered a proper first meal. I had spotted a diner across the street before we checked in, which is a good thing because what I want is a hot meal, and I do believe coffee will hit the spot quite nicely. Now then, what to wear? Navy trousers, dark gray waistcoat and navy jacket, or black trousers and jacket with dark green pin stripes and a deep green jacket? The latter I suppose, besides I'd gotten a new fedora last month that goes with the black outfit. Tie... tie, hello tiiiiieee, where are you? Aaaah there we are. It's just a clip on, but it helps complete the outfit.
Now that I made myself presentable, it was time for me to find breakfast. Coffee looks a bit steep, half-dollar for the coffee and, wait, that can't be right.
THIS
is what I got for a half-dollar? No, damned you people I don't care if I'm making a scene.
Calm. Nothing good would come from shouting. So instead of making a spectacle, no matter how much immediate gratification it would give me, I calmly asked the waitress that brought this astoundingly tiny thimble of coffee if they had somehow mixed up my order with somebody else's. I had asked for a, pardon me, 'tall' coffee. Well it seemed that in this coffee house tall is their smallest size, with the portion I was more accustomed to being the 'Grandé', and costing a dollar more. She was quite polite in explaining this to me, and even offered to correct my oversight if I'd pay the difference, which I did. I may feel like this place was gouging, but I literally need my coffee in the morning else I can't focus until well after noon and would be snappish and bitter the whole time.
Perhaps the level of service I had gotten was because I was an obvious first-time customer and they wished to make a good impression. Perhaps it was part of their standard service, which would have gone a long way towards explaining the prices I had seen on the menu. I was given the morning edition of the paper and asked if there were any records, I would like to be put in rotation once the queue cleared.
Well, if they offered I wasn't about to turn them down. After being repeatedly assured that this was a complementary for being a paying customer I accepted the offered paper and asked if they had
Johnny Twelve:
From Home to the Stars and Back Again
. To my utter amazement, they had the record I’d been scouring and pestering the local record shops, mail order services, traveling merchants, and pretty much anyone I felt could direct me to a copy for the past six years over. It had been on my 'to listen to' list for the better part of a decade, so this turn of events has more than made up for the earlier discomfort about their pricing.
Now then, with coffee in hand and paper by my side I set about searching both the help wanted and commerce sections. Sadly, they apparently didn't serve plain black coffee here, so I ordered French vanilla. While the rest of my breakfast was
being prepared, I hummed to whatever was in rotation at that moment. To my dismay most of these positions appeared to be desk jobs, not that I couldn't take dictation, as the pages before you hopefully proves, I take pride in my literacy and deftness with a pen. It was just that I would rather take a more active position if at all possible. Even as I mentally sorted these to the bottom of my list I noted several stores in need of some sort of help or another. These I shuffled higher on my list.
I suppose there are some of you out there that are wondering why I would take menial labor over what would presumably be work that involves less physical exertion, higher pay, and presumably other benefits due to the job itself. Its been my experience that most of the buildings these clerks are shoe-horned in have poor ventilation, are generally smoke filled due to the majority of the workforce taking the edge off their stress by smoking.
Add to this discomfort by a boss that breaths down your neck every half hour about a project deadline, to shove more work down your throat, or to inform you that somebody else isn't in and you have to pick up their slack. Now do you begin to get the idea why I don't like desk jobs? It's simply not worth the stress involved. Working a register, however, is something I have absolutely no problems with, and there are several such positions open it seems.
There's my food, bacon, eggs, two biscuits, and a little gravy to dip, or drizzle, or whatever. Three dollars seemed steep, but consider that by this time the record I asked for has started playing, the crossword lay before me even though it has a note scribbled in the margin asking that patrons not work the crossword on the paper itself as well as a spare sheet of paper as well as a pen, presumably to serve as a placeholder, I was satisfied I was getting my money's worth.
Small pleasures these may have been, but if one didn't stop to enjoy the simple things life gives you and seek only to enjoy the grander aspects of living, then your life would be filled with many disappointments and few rewards. Trust me, I had seen people go down that road and I rather enjoy my approach better, its allowed me to curtail much of the anger and frustration in the world, though that doesn't mean I wouldn't be annoyed at what life throws at me, such as the bill. Three dollars. Deus and Deities this is one of the most expensive meals I've eaten in a good long time.
On the Prowl
The first place I went to seemed to have already found someone to work the register, though it seemed they were still searching for someone to stack the shelves. I politely told them that if nothing else came up I would be back to see if they're still in need. Not that this work was beneath me, but I would rather try out my other options before returning here, after all it was a rather steep drop in pay and an equally steep increase in the amount of labor for that pay. Before I left I heard compliments from both the lady that owned the store as well as the boy at the register about my suit. Father would have been proud, as he had always taught that the impression made by a good suit and polite manners can win anyone over in time.
The next place I went to had a similar situation, save that it was the manager's son that worked the register, quite badly by the looks of things. While they were polite, they were far less so than the first place I'd gone. As I walked I debated on if I should go back or not, and decided it would be better if I didn't unless there literally were no other options. On the way I ran into, almost literally, a familiar face.
"Jenny?" Of all the places she could've gone she had to be here. I was somewhat amused by this as I made sure the olive skinned happy-go-lucky walking oddity was undamaged. "What brings you here?"
She chuckled, and then readjusted her scarf. "Same thing you are I suppose. I'm looking for work." Ah, of course, the activity of the day. "I had thought to see if any of the theaters here were interested in hiring me on for the summer. You?"
"Er- looking to see if any of the stores here need a pair of hands." It didn't sound nearly as grand as what she wished, but then again while I was a fan of performance, prior experience has taught me that I was ill suited to be anything other than a spectator, or perhaps somebody working back stage to ensure everything went smoothly.
Jenny's face brightened then, without permission or warning, she grabbed my right hand. "I know just the place!" Despite having a somewhat longer stride than her I felt hard-pressed to keep up as Jenny drug/led me to a knickknack's shop that'd somehow been shoe-horned in between clothing stores. "Well, what're you waiting for? They're looking for help, and you've told me you like working with kids, and you're good with numbers." To emphasize her assertion I should go she gave me a gentle, but quite firm, shove towards the building in question.
It seemed as soon as this was done she was gone again. How she disappears, seemingly at a whim, I haven't the faintest clue. Its somewhat eerie, and more than a little disturbing, but she's a kind soul. She was also one of the few others that had openly supported my choice to take Billy in. If she thought this place was somewhere I should go, then who was I to argue, especially since she wasn't there to argue with.
Date 4 June
Mood: Nervous
The interview itself seemed to be of little consequence when compared to the store itself. All manner of items were crammed in bins, stacked on shelves, or were arranged on tables. The displays themselves seemed rather haphazardly created, as if a school-room full of children had recently just been told to put everything away before scurrying off to lessons. How anyone could make sense of this, much less enforce it?
The answer seemed to pop into existence just behind me as a youngish looking woman walked in, and almost as if by magic, a short fellow garbed all in green and surmounted by an equally green top hat bowed to her, introduced himself as 'the spirit of giving' then started leading her around, asking the bewildered woman questions in rapid succession. Then, almost without any warning at all they stopped at a particular display before the woman's face lit up like a room full of arch lamps. 'It's perfect!' she exclaimed. A whole army of metal solders was just what her two boys had asked for, apparently, and with so many they wouldn't have to fight over who got to play with what.
The diminutive salesman pulled a bag out of his coat sleeve with a flourish and helped her gather the diminutive men before both headed towards the register, which happened to be where I was standing. Both seemed to take my presence as a manner of course and seemed to expect me to ring the lady's purchase up.
"What," I begin as I scanned the layout of this particular register. "Is the total ...uh…? Sir?" I looked to the emerald clad dwarf. I suppose leprechaun would have been more appropriate, but that had always brought to my mind maniacal tricksters no bigger than your thumb willing to fleece you for everything you had, and this man seemed just the exact opposite. He held up five fingers on his left hand, made two fists, held up eight fingers, then three before nodding, all this done behind the woman's back. Odd, but I attempted to run with it.
"Five eighty three ma'am." she handed me six dollars, which I quickly made change for before ringing up the sale and writing a recipe with one of the little squares of paper stacked to the left of the register, presumably for that exact purpose. She practically beamed at me as I tipped my hat to her before she left.
"A fine job lad." the dwarfish fellow nodded approvingly at me. "Quick wit, polite, and a snappy dresser." He plucked at the hem of my coat, "Why we even match." His grin broadened, letting my coat go to thrust a hand towards me, which I gripped before we let go. "Michael Anderson, but for those that come through the door I'm Finn." He took a step back and bowed deeply, making a sweeping gesture with his top hat. "Finny McCullough, purveyor of amusements for the young and young at heart at your service Mister..."
"Julian Guy Fawkes the Third, or Julies if you prefer." I doffed my hat to the man. A little whimsy to lighten the mood, clever. It was also rather fitting to his personality it seemed, and I would later learn one of the reasons his store did so well.
I couldn't wait to tell Billy. She'd love this place. When I brought the subject of Gholem up Finn waved his hand dismissively, "Fah, they've had a bad deal since the day they were put on this earth. So long as they behave and show the other customers and employees respect I'll treat 'em the same as everyone else." Good! I was worried I'd found a boss that had a wonderful sense of absurdity, charming attitude, and would have to find other work due to prejudices. Bless Jenny for her wonderfully good judge of character.
Evening
I didn't return to the hotel till dusk, as more customers had shuffled through off and on for the rest of the day. This had the effect of keeping me rather busy, and thankfully Finn was there to pick up on the slips I'd inevitably made. I had yet to learn the systems he'd had in place for pricing, organization, or any of that but judging by how he reacted between customers he thought I did well enough to be kept on. It was, on the whole, a good day. Now it was time to give Billy the good news.
"Billy?" I knocked twice before using my key to unlock the door.
After calling again I heard from the other side, "Just a minute!" then after several such minutes passed, "Alright come in." I saw Billy in a dark jump-suit, stout boots, and thick gloves. She must have seen my puzzled expression, as that was the same outfit she wore the day I found her, though the insignia had been removed and it had been died a deep blue instead of its original olive drab. "It's for my new job. They warned me things might get hairy, and these are the toughest clothes I have with me." This was true, since the fibers themselves seemed quite capable of resisting any attempt to cut or rend, which would doubtlessly be quite useful.
I embraced her where we stood, then after another quick squeeze I let her go. "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself."