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Helen stands at attention, shoulders back, head up, arms at her sides. I half expect her to say, “Sir, yes sir!” She’s probably terrified.
Milton pauses in front of me, taking a long, smirky look at my red-and-white-striped top and bright-green pants. “Are you an elf, lost from the North Pole?”
“The clients here like to come into the lobby and see what I’m wearing. It’s been my thing since I got here.”
“Not anymore. Professional dress. Navy blue. Black. White shirts preferred, but beige and tan are fine.”
Good lord. I don’t even own any neutrals. I can’t afford a whole new wardrobe.
“Is this okay?” Helen asks. Her dress is a dark burgundy.
“Borderline,” Milton says. “This is a respectable establishment where customers trust us with their money.” He turns to me. “Not a competition for most outlandish costume.”
The clock hits eight, which is when the drive-through opens. The first car of the day pulls up into the commercial lane.
Milton steps away from me. “Janet, I want you to handle the business transactions coming through.”
I can’t stop crying out with an explosive, “What!”
Janet turns to greet the customer. I have to shut my mouth while her microphone is on. As soon as the chute is activated, though, I finish what I started. “That’s the job of the assistant head teller or the manager!”
“Or the head teller,” Milton says. “I’m putting Janet in that position on a trial basis. I’m under the impression that Janet was underutilized with the previous management.”
I want to sputter and spit.
“Helen, you fill the lobby desk with pens and deposit slips.” Milton gestures for her to leave.
Now it’s just me standing in front of him. Another car pulls into the drive-through, this time a regular lane.
“Well, go on,” Milton says. “Do your job. Or did you forget after a week off?”
I was here yesterday, doing it, but I don’t snap at him again. Instead, I take the farthest position from Janet and say hello to the new driver in the lane.
Mercifully, once the day gets underway, the customer traffic is enough to keep me busy. Milton trains Helen on using the checkscanner and cash counter, berating her for every mistake. He’s given her the crappy one that gets stuck. When he’s called to the lobby for a problem with the ATM, I switch out the machines so she’ll have a better one.
“You okay?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “He’s better than my last boss.”
Janet swivels on the stool by the drive-through. “Girl, same.”
My head feels like it might explode. “Cindy was great!”
Janet shrugs. “She was your friend. Now you have to work like the rest of us.”
“I did work!” Oh my God! This is outrageous.
It’s time for the first lunch shift, and I take it, stomping to the break room like an angry toddler. When I open the fridge, I shift the tape on Janet’s zone out of sheer spite.
But doing it only makes me think of Drew. And then I’m down yet another unhappy rabbit hole.
Milton comes into the room, and I tense up immediately. Please don’t eat now. Please, please. There’s only one table in the space.
But he heads to the coffeepot and fills his cup. “Don’t take one minute over thirty.” He taps his watch on his way out.
I’m blissfully alone. I unzip my lunch bag and pull out my Good Noodles to heat. There’s also a granola bar, and I hold it in my hand, thinking of Cindy and her mushroom cauliflower. And my sister, sick in her bathroom with a baby on the way. And Maria and Vera and Todd.
Another crying jag threatens, but I force myself to buck up. “You’re a ray of fucking sunshine, Ensley James,” I say aloud, then laugh. “Nah. Just be you.” It helps to cut myself some slack, and I heat my noodles. I’m blowing on them when Janet comes in. “Hurry up,” she says. “I’m starving, and I can’t be off the line while you’re in here. Helen doesn’t know anything yet.”
