‘They did not. He didn’t touch. He just followed me around.’ My eyes fall to my lap as I pluck at a loose thread on my so-called uniform. Black shorts and a white shirt knotted at the waist; the whole ensemble two sizes too small, and not by accident but rather for effect. Like I need to give men any more reason not to look at my face.
‘With a lolling tongue and clacking dentures? Were his rheumy eyes undressing you through glasses like the bottom of a Mason jar?’
I’m pleased this is amusing one of us.
‘They were more like glued to my boobs.’
‘While the girls are pretty magnificent, I say unto you, ew!’
Ew is right. It’s all just so nasty, from my tiny uniform and knee socks to how it’s taken for granted I’ll sweet-talk the scum they call clientele, accepting that tips are sometimes delivered to my cleavage because I’m so poor right now, I can’t afford scruples.
‘Did you whip him with your wig?’
Amber finds it hilarious that I wear a platinum blonde wig to work, but it makes me feel a little better. It’s as if I’ve created a distinction between the woman who allows those kinds of liberties and me.
My work personality is called Heidi. I don’t do the accent.
‘I did not,’ I answer, suddenly finding that the pins fastening up my dark hair are beginning to pinch.
‘I know you didn’t bless his heart because you only do that before you make someone eat dirt.’
‘One time—I did that one time! And the fool had it coming to him.’
‘Agreed. So, what did you do to the old creep?’
‘I used my words. I said to him, sir, do you see this tray? This is the only part of my uniform I will drop for you tonight.’
‘While imagining dropping it on his head.’ As Amber chuckles, I regale her with the rest of our exchange as I unpin my braids, then tuck them into the collar of my coat.
‘Come on, honey. I’ll make it worth your while,’ I intone in some approximation of elderly hillbilly. ‘He just kept grinning at me with these teeth that looked like a row of crooked headstones. And speaking of headstones, he ought to be under one. The man was older than dirt.’
‘You know what they say; only the good die young.’
‘Hell, there was nothing good about him. What part of no don’t you understand? I almost yelled at him. I told him there were any number of gorgeous girls willing to—’
‘Take his money?’
‘To dance for him. Why plague me?’
‘Because he likes them with a little fight, apparently.’
‘Only his answer was much worse.’ So bad it made me sick to my stomach. ‘He said he wanted me to dance for him—and we both know by dance, he meant strip—because, honey, you’re the spit of my granddaughter.’ Again, I lay on the good ole boy accent thick.
‘Oh, my God. That is so bad.’
‘No, that is my job,’ I reply, pretending not to look at the driver just as he pretends not to listen as the car begins to slow. ‘But thanks for calling back. For checking in.’
‘I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time,’ Amber answers quietly. ‘I wish I could help.’ And she would, but for the pesky immigration rules. ‘But I was thinking that maybe you could come and stay sometime soon. Maybe when Roman is here?’
‘Roman?’ I repeat a little incredulously. Her brother-in-law?
‘What’s wrong with Roman? He’s single, rich, handsome, and has the kind of accent that disintegrates panties in a mile radius.’
‘All very true. But me and Roman?’
‘Wouldn’t that be something.’
Roman and I would be something all right. Something ridiculous. I’ve never dated a rich man. I wouldn’t know what to do with one! So even if the theory of a wealthy boyfriend is appealing, I’m pretty sure the practicalities would be a bust.
‘Just think about it. Please?’
‘Sure, that sounds like a plan.’ A pie in the sky kind of plan given I can barely afford this Uber ride. But a girl can dream, can’t she? Even if my dreams aren’t about dating rich, pretty men but travelling again. It was the most exciting year of my life, even if it does seem like a distant dream now.
A year out of community college, I was interning for a hotel chain when I received an unexpected windfall from a distant relative of my mom’s. It came out of the blue, considering I’d been parentless and struggling since she had passed away in my senior year of high school. But I didn’t question where or the why because it was my ticket out. I paid off my debts, and I left without looking back. But a girl has to put down roots at some point. In my case, I applied for a job Stateside when funds began to run low. I guess all parties have to end sometime, but some move this turned out to be. I might’ve graduated to an apartment from a backpacker’s hostel, but I’m no further ahead, despite my worldly experiences.