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So, I signed up at the Temp Agency. After all, I would be the type of employee they wanted…Temporary help, someone who didn’t care about staying on the job and seeing it through to promotion and a future.
Yeah, temporary, that’s me.
So far, I’d waited tables, worked in an assembly line and in a warehouse that made umbrellas. I did like the constant change of scenery, so I really wanted to stay with the agency. Stay? The word seemed to echo in my head. It was a condition fate didn’t allow me, try as I might.
My Aunt Tibby told me once that my destiny was to be a tumbleweed. At the time, I’d laughed at the statement while thinking, yeah, a tumbleweed with no direction. My Aunt just smiled and told me, “Some are meant to wander and roll around the world, gathering experience and adventure. You, Macy…Are one of those wanderers.”
I stopped laughing soon after that, when I got kicked out of College. It hadn’t been my fault. I’d trusted my roommate and got burned. Just like I’d trusted David-fake-face and got scorched beyond recognition. Susie, my roomie cheated on a few finals and implicated me, saying I provided the test answers. No. I didn’t have anything to do with the cheating. Except, I did go out with Brad and Susie considered that as the main cheat…Dammit! Why had I accepted his invite to dinner? Well, I knew why, he was interested in me, when that rarely happened since I was a little on the chubby side. Susie had a major thing going on for the guy, and then found out he liked me. Then, sexy but seemingly worthless Brad pocketed my credit cards and went on a Clothe Sexy Brad buying spree. My friendship with Susie tossed, my credit and education dream ruined and the rest is spiteful history.
Then the following year, I met David. I finally thought my life had changed.
Nope. He was worse than Brad could have ever dreamed of being. Like Brad was a toddler criminal compared to David the Goliath of Stealing.
I forced my thoughts away from my failed attempt at accomplishment and a normal life, then hurried in through the double doors of the agency. I couldn’t lose this job, my rent was due and I was still short. Yet another move was unthinkable. It would be living out of another cardboard box, like Sally, the crazy lady outside of my apartment building, next to the alley dumpster.
I halted my wild breathless running at the front desk.
Carol, the receptionist had never been nice, now she glared at me with a visible sneer on her lips.
I knew why. The secretary was pole thin and she scorned anyone who wasn’t from the regular mold. I couldn’t tell her off for it, I had no proof. Just a feeling. That ‘feeling’ I’d experienced too many times, ever since high school. “I’m so sorry!” I burst out, “My bus just passed me by and—”
“Save it!” Carol seethed.
“But I’m just a few minutes late, I could—”
“I said save it.” Carol handed me a slip.
The dreaded pink slip! I reached out with a shaky hand and took it.
“No need to say more. You’re done here,” Carol whispered as she gazed over to the row of chairs by the window.
I sighed with distraction and followed her gaze.
A smallish man sat in one of the chairs. He wore overly large glasses and dark suit. He nodded his head at Carol.
I swung my gaze back to the prickly stick person of a receptionist. Yeah, a cold reception at best. I so wanted to tell the sickly looking icicle of a woman off. Again though, I refused to lower myself by accusing her of what I knew to be true. She hates me because I’m, not a stick. I opened my mouth to say so, finally. Then I changed my mind. Why make it worse, I could never alter stick lady’s opinion. None of it mattered really.
Except… I just lost my rent money.
Shrugging dejectedly, I went back out through the doors. Well, another day as a tumbleweed, and now I won’t be able to make the rent either. My new address will be Suite One at the alley dumpster. “Dammit!” I swore as I stepped out to the sidewalk.
~***~
“You have two days…” Mr. Harvey told me as he handed me a red piece of paper.
I stared down at it. The dreaded red notice. Great—first pink, now red. Maybe the next paper will be what—black? It sure would suit today….a BLACK notice. Do you get one of those when you’re about to die? Bad joke, Macy. What I really need is some green paper, badly. “I can’t get a thousand dollars together in two days, Frank. I need a week at least.” Yeah, like I really needed a month. I anxiously chewed at my bottom lip as I stared at my landlord.
