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New York City was my first choice, but I decided I couldn’t deal with the craziness that was the Big Apple, so I opted for C, somewhere I thought might be a little less crazy. I moved in with my friend Claudia, sharing her one-bedroom apartment. I needed to help her with her rent, so it was imperative that I find a job.
“I'm a nurse and not a nanny,” I grumbled to myself as I turned a corner.
When I got to California, I started job hunting immediately. That was why I’d moved after all, and I took it quite seriously.
Claudia, God bless her sweet heart, suggested that I rest for a couple of weeks to acclimate to my environment before going about my job hunt. My response? “That's what Google Maps was created for. I will get used to the environment by going out and hitting the pavement.”
I was hyped. As a twenty-four-year-old nursing graduate with top grades, I knew the world would fall at my feet, pedaling incredible offers, but that wasn't my reality, and I ended up searching for jobs at various hospitals for two months.
By the end of the second month, I wanted to quit and return to Massachusetts. Maybe it was my destiny to be stuck there. However, just as I was about to pack it all up, Claudia told me that Blue Lilly Hospital had an opening for a nurse. It was one of the most revered hospitals in Los Angeles, and I was terrified when I heard about it because I had failed to find a job atother hospitalsthat had openings for more than one staff member.
Claudia told me they’d asked specifically for me. She’d told a friend about me, and that friend happened to be friends with Dr. Damian Burns, the hospital’s chief of staff. Excited to have finally gotten what I'd always wanted, I woke up the next morning and got dressed for what I was certain would be my new job. When I got to Blue Lilly,I took stock of every hallway, ward, staff member, and everything in between, trying to get familiar with my new work environment.
When I walked into the doctor's office, the “good” doctor seemed pleased to see me, and he told me he was looking forward to working with me. My excitement skyrocketed when I heard that I would be working directly with the chief of staff. It meant I’d have the opportunity to work alongside a medical veteran on my first job. My career was starting on a high note.
I was stunned when Dr. Burns told me I’d be working at his house and that he wanted me to work as a home nurse for his father. Apparently, the old man had refused to go to a nursing home, so the doctor needed someone qualified to come to the house. My grades had impressed him, and he thought I would be a good fit. I had ruled out working in nursing homes while I was still in school. It just wasn’t what I had envisioned for myself. I was about to turn down the job, head back to Massachusetts, and join my parents on their small ranch when the doctor told me my salary would be $2,000 dollars monthly.
The money was too good to pass up, so I agreed. Dr. Burns also agreed to write a recommendation for me when I was ready to stop working for him. It all sounded good. Fast forward six months, and I’d done nothing but deal with the grumpiest old man I’d ever come across, and I grew up on a ranch where I’d seen my fair share of grumpy old men.
Old Mr. Sylvester Burns was never satisfied with anything I did. He’d ask me to get him an item and change his mind when I brought it to him. He seemed to get a perverse thrill from keeping me running around. It was sickening.
“Here they are, Mr. Burns,” I said as politely as I could when I entered the house with the cheeseburger and milkshake that Mr. Burns had asked me to get him. He wouldn’t order anything online. He said he only trusted people he knew, so I had to run all kinds of errands for him as well as administer his medication and ensure his overall wellbeing.
“What do you think, Ariana?” he asked.
“Think about what, Mr. Burns?” I asked expectantly. I just knew he’d say something that would piss me off.
“Do you think I should have a hamburger or a cheeseburger?” he asked innocently. I wanted to scream, but I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself.
“Well, Mr. Burns, it’s too late now since I already got the cheeseburger, see?” I responded, gesturing at the cheeseburger.
“You'll go back out there and get me a hamburger if that’s what I want,” he responded in his usual grumpy tone. Then, as if nothing had happened, he took the cheeseburger and started eating. I left him in the living room, grateful I didn’t have to go out again.
The doctor’s house was quite large, and he had provided a room for me to use when I was working. I always went there when I wasn’t attending to my patient to decompress.
“Ariana Smithson,” I said to myself, “you're too qualified for this craziness.” I tucked an unruly strand of red hair behind my left ear. I was drained and frustrated. The job was taking a toll on my mental well-being. I had steady work, and I was earning a good salary, but I felt unfulfilled. This was not the work I had hoped to be doing when I finished my degree.
“Don’t worry, Ariana,” I said, laying back on the bed, “you'll find something new and be able to leave when the time is right. Hang in there.” I eventually fell asleep, but I was awoken by a sensation on my thigh. I opened my eyes and saw old Mr. Sylvester Burns beside me on the bed, his hand on my thigh and a thirsty look on his face.
“Mr. Burns! What the heck are you doing?” I yelled, pulling away from him in fear and disgust.
“Oh, come on, Ariana—you can't tell me you haven't noticed how I look at you.”
“What the fudge? Mr. Sylvester, you're older than my father! I work for your son! You're a sick man who can barely walk! This is all shades of wrong!”
“Oh, come on,” he said again.
“That's it! That is it! I'm done. I’msodone with this insanity! What the actual hell?” I said as I frantically collected my belongings and rushed out of the house. I was done with the job. I could take all kinds of abuse, but the stunt Mr. Sylvester Burns had pulled? That was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Chapter Three
Quite Convenient
Brian
“Brian, you were something else last night,” Katrina said as she stretched languidly and then moved closer to me for an early morning cuddle.
“Crap! Yeah. Sure,” I said, moving away. I never allowed her to get all lovey-dovey with me after sex because what we had was just casual. I could tell she was starting to want something more, and I didn’t want to give her any encouragement.
