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But irony hit hard when I got pink slipped a few weeks after they moved out. My then-company was downsizing in the wake of a hostile takeover, because apparently my world hadn’t been rocked hard enough. The severance package had been generous, at least: I’d be able to forgo working for a year or more if I was careful about spending.
Relative financial security, however, didn’t do much to soothe loneliness or boredom: my work schedule hadn’t just impacted my love life, it had killed off my few friendships, too. That was why my therapist suggested I get a pet of my own, something new to hold my interest and make my apartment feel less bare. I was dubious about the idea, but I’d reluctantly agreed to visit the store as a ‘homework assignment.’
A wall of glass-fronted cat enclosures covered most of the store’s left wall, containing everything from hyperactive little kittens to a grumpy old stub-tailed tuxedo that glared at me. Hemingway had held a special place in my heart, but if I was being strictly honest, I didn’t miss the chore of litter and the unpleasant surprise of hairballs.
I passed a message board filled with flyers for adoptable dogs and puppies for sale, but decided that even a small dog wouldn’t be a good fit for my apartment. I didn’t want to pick up poop in little baggies. Maybe that made me a diva, but I had a low bar for squick and I wasn’t trying to make my life more difficult. A pet was supposed toimprovemy life, not urge me to invest in nuclear-level antibacterial hand soap.
I sighed, blowing out a long breath of frustration as I scanned the aisles.Alright there, Goldilocks - concentrate on what youdowant instead of finding fault with everything. Alright, something…independent. Something that was pretty and charming that still allowed me to keep my own hours. Something that wasn’t expensive to feed or noisy.
Okay, so a houseplant.
I sighed again, mentally giving up and turning to leave. Eyes wandering aimlessly, I nearly walked right into a lanky young man, clad in a garish uniform polo shirt at least a size too big for his shoulders. He backed up a step and laughed awkwardly. “Whoa, sorry! Do you need help? We moved around some of the aisles if you haven’t been in lately.”
I shook my head, forcing a smile that I’m sure didn’t make it to my eyes. “No, I’m good, but thanks. I was considering getting a pet, but I have no idea what I want, so I’m probably not ready, honestly. Dogs and cats are kind of high energy and messy, you know?”
“Hm, no, I get that. My sister feels the same way. Uhm, a bird maybe?” The teen nodded over his shoulder at some cages nearby, where cheerful, ear-piercing cheeps and peeps tumbled out.
“Nah.” I wrinkled my nose and shook my head apologetically. “Not much for noise, either. I live in an apartment and my neighbors would probably kill me.”
“Ohh, yeah, I can see that. I guess like, guinea pigs and hamsters are out too. They can be pretty messy, I have to clean their enclosures all the time.” His brow creased in thought and he spun on a heel, pointing towards the back corner of the store. “What about fish? I mean, you have to change the water and stuff, but they don’t make noise and the filter takes care of a lot of the cleaning.”
Huh. I hadn’t considered a fish.They weren’t exactly cuddly, obviously, but a fish would definitely align with my aversion to mess and noise. Also, the goal of getting a pet was companionship and interest, not necessarily hugs. “You know, that’s actually a great idea. What do you suggest?”
The kid beamed and led the way back to a wall of serene blue-backed rectangles, all containing fish in various shapes and sizes. I immediately made a beeline for the goldfish, the only type of pet fish I was passingly familiar with. The employee, Grant, quietly told me that goldfish bowls were actually bad for the fish and steered me towards the guppy tank.
“Their tails are really pretty, but they seem so small and fragile. I worry they’d go belly up on me if I looked at them wrong.” I laughed nervously, squinting at the swirl of patterns and colors.
“Well, if you want something pretty that’s a little bigger, there’s always the Bettas?” He tapped a tidy metal shelf that looked like a surrealist game of beer pong; a pyramid of clear cups that each contained a single brightly-colored, flared-tail fish. They were gorgeous, and I immediately envisioned one of the serene blue-backed tanks in a bare corner of my living room. It’d look sophisticated. I’d be an exotic fish owner, and have wine tastings, and read fine literature on the weekends.
I moved closer, crouching down to squint at the front row of multicolored choices. Some looked really listless and almost sick, others looked a little too hyper for my liking, their fins frayed and wild. Two, however, swam in smooth circles, occasionally making eye contact across the shelf and flaring their fins at each other.
“Aww. I likethesetwo.” I slid the cups beside one another until their lids touched, sending both fish flaring their fins like an artful underwater parade.”Look at them, they’re already friends!”
“Oh, uhm.” Grant coughed a laugh. “That’s notfriendship, just so you know. All these bettas on this shelf are male, and they’re basically…well, all that fin action is like drunk guys chest-bumping before a fight starts, I guess. They’re called Siamese Fighting Fish for a reason, and if you try and put these two in the same tank, one will probably kill the other.”
I frowned, rotating one of the two cups to get a better look at the flame-finned blue fish inside. “Well I don’t want that, of course. Could I just get them and keep them in their little cups here on my desk or something?”
Grant shook his head, looking around himself conspiratorially before murmuring to me. “Being straight with you, they want us to sell pets here and they’re not really worried about people mistreating them, which I think sucks. Bettas actuallydoneed a tank, a heater, and a few other things, but a lot of potential owners walk away rather than shelling out for the stuff they need to keep bettas. If you want your fish to be happy, I’ll show you what you’ll want to buy to set them up properly.”
For the next 20 minutes, I put myself in Grant’s capable hands and dutifully followed him around the store while he loaded up a small cart with two tanks, twin heaters, food, and more. I was grateful anIntroduction to Raising Bettasbook made it onto the pile; I was already overwhelmed with the idea of setting uptwotanks and I hadn’t even left the store. I had to begrudgingly admit my therapist had been right, though: I was so focused on the endeavor I didn’t have brain space to feel anxious or bored.
Grant winced at checkout when he gave me my total, but it was actually far less than I was expecting to pay for all the accessories a new pet would need. Lord knew Steve and I had spent a fortune on silly little toys for Hemmie just to have him rapturously play with the milk cap, and those weren’t even survival-level items. I knew my fish would be comfortable and happy, and that gave me a sense of purpose and unexpected pride.
Ro
I’d hadenoughof Kian’s fin-filled showboating. For a heart-stopping moment, I worried that he’d managed to capture the woman’s eye, and relief set in when she turned back to Grant. When she grabbed his cup and slid it forward on the shelf a moment later, my stomach sank.
But why should I care? It was agoodthing that the only real competition I had on the entire goddamn shelf was leaving. I’d rule the entire stack of cups, of these mindless, passingly-showy idiots, and secure the next patron all on my own. I wouldn’t lie, though: the idea that Kian had been selected first for freedom burned me down to my tail fins. I was clearly the stronger and more attractive of the two of us, anyone could see that.
While I was a beautiful pewter blue with red, rounded fins that fluttered like silk, Kian was an ostentatious dark blue with jagged red and orange fins that waved like wind-tattered flags. He hadn’t even been injured in combat, he justlookedlike that. Disgraceful, really.
But then the woman -Ariana, as she’d introduced herself to Grant - reached for my cup too, setting me beside Kian. I flared reflexively, as I had moments earlier: anytime Kian’s beady little eyes passed over my cup, I angrily reminded him who was the more intimidating betta. Getting to see my longtime rival so up close and personal was an unexpected intimacy, and I was ashamed to admit I felt panicked and flustered. It took three laps of my tiny plastic cup to calm down.
Kian smirked knowingly, and it enraged me. Howdarehe think it washimprovoking this anxiety and not simply this unexpected situation? I certainly wasn’t afraid of him or his proximity; he was a feeder goldfish in the hierarchy here, and he’d do well to remember that. I flared again and feinted at the cup wall menacingly, for good measure.Asshole. She’d choose me between the two of us, I was confident.
When she picked up both of us I could have gone belly-up. Of all the cosmic jokes, had I really been picked up by a patronwithKian? I guess it made some sense, even if the irony was a bitter pill to swallow: we were the two most attractive bettas on the shelf, if someone wanted a pair, we were the obvious choice. Not that I’deveradmit Kian was attractive, of course.
Still, I was relieved when I heard Grant explain we’d need two tanks. I could fight, I absolutely could, and I would destroy Kian if I needed to, but I wouldn’t want to, you know, tear a fin as he struggled to submit. Plus he was not nearly as fastidious as I was, content to lay about instead of swimming, to eat his food leisurely until it practically clouded the water.
