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“That bald-headed bastard. He can’t do that. You’re the best waitress we’ve got. I’m going to go in there right now and kick his ass.” Despite his words, his feet remained firmly planted where they were. Then his drab gray eyes flickered. “On the bright side, I guess now we can finally have that date.”
He had asked me out twice in the past. But he was not my type. Shorter than I am, he is also painfully thin. He’s not a bad guy, just socially awkward. The first time he asked me out was right after we started working together. I told him I had a boyfriend. He was disappointed but said he would still like to be my friend.
We weren’t the kind of friends that hung out together, but we talked from time to time at work. When he found out I had broken up with Reggie, he asked me out again. That time I told him, I didn’t think it was a good idea since we worked together. A normal person would have gotten the message the first two times I turned him down. But Danny was not normal.
“How about tonight?” He grinned. “I got a coupon for TGIFridays.”
“Tonight doesn’t work for me. I’ve got to figure out what I’m going to do for a job and I’ve got finals coming up.” He must have heard the frustration in my voice, but continued to look at me with that goofy grin on his face. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll call you sometime. Take care of yourself, Danny.”
“Yeah, you too.” He was no longer smiling and did not conceal his disappointment as he turned and walked to the diner. There was no time to worry about his hurt feelings. With my own problems to deal with, I got in my car and put it in gear. I did not realize until later how large those problems would become.
Before Al had made me full-time at the diner, I had two other part-time jobs. Maybe one of them would take me back. The first was at the Piggly Wiggly, and that was where I headed. Mr. Greenblatt was happy to see me. He was short on cashiers and asked if I could start the following Monday. He laughed when I told him I could start that afternoon and assured me he would get me on the schedule as quickly as he could, which was Monday.
I considered going to Squirrely’s, a dive bar where I had spent a semester waitressing. But that was where I met Reggie. He was a regular and the last thing I wanted was another job where I might have to deal with him.
When we first met, Reggie seemed perfect. Dark-haired, muscular physique and he even had a good job doing repairs at a local car dealership. At least, that was what he told me. He came into the bar one night with a couple of other guys. Right away, he started laying on the charm.
Usually I can see through a man’s bullshit, but he was good. So good, I fell for every one of his lies. I was living with three other girls, which if you’ve never done it, is no picnic. After we had gone out a few times and I’d slept over at his apartment, he suggested I move in with him. He didn’t even ask me to kick in for the rent, at least not yet.
About three weeks after I moved in, I noticed he was no longer going to work and asked about it. He told me he got laid off because things were slow at the shop but not to worry, he’d be back to work soon enough. Said he had a few things lined up.
Those things didn’t pan out. I would come home in between jobs and find him playing video games and smoking dope. But by that point, I was stuck. I barely had enough to cover my tuition, let alone afford a place of my own. It did not get any easier when he missed the rent payment and the landlord showed up at the door.
I had learned the shame that comes with eviction at an early age. Even though things were not going well between me and Reggie, I wanted to spare him that humiliation. I gave her the last dollar in my checking account, but it was still $100 short of what Reggie owed.
Life was pretty miserable for the next few months. Then Al offered me full-time hours. It was more money than I was making at all three jobs combined. With tips added in, I could finally get an apartment of my own.
Reggie did not handle it well when I told him I was moving out. He accused me of having another boyfriend. Followed me around the apartment, calling me a skank while I packed up my clothes. He could be nasty when he was drinking, which by then was all the time.
By the next day, he was calling me non-stop. My phone was full of conflicting voice mails. They alternated between apologizing and begging me to come back and vicious, hate filled messages. I stopped listening after the one where he said ‘I hope you get twat cancer and burn in hell, you cheating slut.’ Nice guy, right? I sure know how to pick them.
Fortunately, he did not know where I had moved to. Which was why he kept showing up where I worked and causing problems. I had made decent tips at Squirrely’s, but it wasn’t worth the possibility I would run into him again.
I was headed home to see what other jobs were available online. But first pulled into the Kwiki Mart, a few blocks from where I live. Not having slept well the night before, I needed a Red Bull. School had just let out, and it was shift change at Miller Industries, so I had to park around back.
Wali, the cashier behind the counter, greeted me by name. I was kind of a regular. After walking to the back of the store where the coolers were located, I reached for a pack of King Dongs and then put them back. With the recent change in my employment status, it seemed prudent to give up my Hostess habit. When I got to the register, I realized I had left my purse in the car. I apologized to Wali and went out to retrieve it.
For a moment, I thought maybe I had parked somewhere else. As I walked back to the front of the store, I double checked to make sure I had not parked along the side of the building. Then I recalled having to squeeze to get out of the car because I parked too close to the dumpster.
There was only one explanation. I walked inside and asked Wali why he had my car towed. “We don’t do that no more. Too many customers complain. The boss canceled our contract with the tow company last year.”
“Then where the fuck is my car?” What had started as a bad day was quickly getting worse.
“Maybe someone stole it,” said the old man, buying lottery tickets.
“Who would steal a 16-year-old Ford Taurus?” I asked.
“It’s a sign of the times we live in,” said a woman. Her t-shirt assured everyone she was Rapture Ready.
“Do you want me to call the police for you?” Wali asked.
“No thanks. I will call them myself,” I replied, grateful that I always kept my phone in my pocket rather than my purse. While I waited for the cops to show up, I called Capital One and reported the only credit card that wasn’t maxed out, as stolen. The woman I talked to told me it would be 10-14 business days before my new card arrived. When I called my bank, I remembered my last pay check had also been in the car.
I called Al to tell him what had happened. He begrudgingly agreed to write me another check if I brought in a police report. I don’t know how he expected me to do that now that I did not have a car, but thanked him.
When the parking lot had cleared out, Wali brought me a Red Bull. “On the house,” he said and went back inside. The cop that showed up was little help. He started giving attitude right away, asking if I had left the keys in the car, like this was my fault. I pulled the TEAM Murr key chain from my jean’s pocket and showed him the key.
That my driver’s license and proof of insurance had been in the car do not help matters. Not that the insurance card was of any use to me. I only had liability on the car. When he left, he gave me a report number and said I would be notified if they found my car, but I should not hold my breath. Thanks for nothing.
