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“Of course,” Ariana replied, beaming. She smiled so easily, so intensely that it made Gertrude feel like an alien, drifting around on an earth scouting mission, wondering how the fuck anyone felt much like grinning.
She gave Ariana a weak smile.
It was roughly equivalent to the average person’s pure jubilation.
***
She was in the enemy camp. The land of extroverts.
The DNF Bookstore (“we just call it The DNF,” Ariana told her, as though it were a political militant group) was hand-crafted to cause damage to Gertrude’s psyche.
Bright pastel colors clung to every wall. The shelves were a light turquoise, the jaunty book displays gleefully showing glossy candy-covers of jelly-bean blue and lollipop red. Tiny stuffed animals lurked on every book end, their glass eyes judging the grim shadow of Gertrude as she moved across the sales floor, maneuvering around what felt like a giant Easter holiday display. So bright!
She was a vampire enduring sunlight, avoiding the brightness as though a bit of yellow might creep onto her blouse and spread like a pox.
The woman at the counter, older, greying, her glasses large and square, her outfit screaming “retired art teacher”, greeted her warmly with an accent that sounded Midwest, maybe Minnesota? Her consonants were jumbled and her vowels drawn out, words fusing together into clumped phrases. “Hello there! WhatcanIdoforya?”
“I have an interview at 4pm,” Gertrude responded.
“Ooh, new coworker alert! I’ll let Olivia know.” She turned to head to the employees-only area, but paused and turned around. “Obviously you’ll meet Olivia, but I’m Rebecca—” she opened her arms and extended them graciously. Gertrude panicked and thought she wanted to hug, but luckily she was just… grandly introducing herself with elaborate arm motions. “Then there’s Nora and Ariana—”
“That’s my friend, she got me the interview.”
“Oh great! Well, I’m sure you’ll love it here! If you have any questions, you just ask Rebecca.” She beamed. “Which, of course, is me!”
Gertrude could feel the exclamation points in her sentences. They tired her out; she wanted to go home and lie down.
Instead, she waited as Rebecca the Exclaimer went through the door, just to return with another woman who, thankfully, seemed more Gertrude’s speed. She was dressed in black business casual, and had the look of someone who didn’t tolerate nonsense.
“Gertrude?” Olivia asked.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Please tell me you don’t go by Trudy.”
“God, no.”
“Gertie?”
“I’d rather die.”
Olivia nodded. “Gertrude it is. It’s a nice old name.”
Gertrude felt a flash of liking towards her, and even more so when they went into her office and there was an ancient, yellow-covered copy of Dracula in a glass case behind her desk.
They settled into their spots, like chess players lining up their pieces. Olivia the interviewer, Gertrude the prospective employee.
She resisted the urge to cross her arms and glare. She couldn’t help it—it was her natural state.
“How old are you?” Oliva asked, looking over her resume.
“Twenty-two.”
“Work experience?”
“I worked as a cashier at a gas station, and a few summers as a library volunteer.”
“Volunteer work, how was that?”
