by Dyan Sheldon
For Chiqui D
FRIDAY 13 JULY
Let the bells of FREEDOM ring! The last day of school finally arrived! As you know, it’s been a GRUELLING year of hard work and personal development (with all the stress and slog of GCSEs), but though I’m pleased with how much I’ve grown and matured, I’m also très glad it’s over. A person can only take so much graft and growth, and then she really needs to RELAX. So it was all tears and hugs at the institution today. Farewell, dear friends. See you in September. Though we won’t see EVERYONE, of course. Siranee, Alice and Sara Dancer are all going to different colleges in the autumn. It seems like only yesterday that we were nervous Year 7s who thought taking the laces out of our trainers was très cool and were awed by the sight of kids smoking behind the science building, and now it was the last time we’d ever walk through those gates together unless in memory. [Note to self: Youth really does go QUICKLY, doesn’t it?] Because my father is OBSESSED with Bob Dylan, I know all of his billions of songs by heart, and it’s just like he says: Everything passes and changes. Ms Staples said she was V IMPRESSED with my efforts this year and that I deserve to have some fun (at least SOMEONE appreciates me!). She said I was going to have to work even harder next year, but she was looking forward to having me for A level English. I said likewise. I said I didn’t know how I could have got through this year without her Support, Inspiration and Encouragement. She said hearing something like that makes working sixty hours a week for a fraction of the salary of a spin doctor worth it. She said I should write to the Prime Minister and tell him, since he seems to think education is only about test results.
Disha’s father has pretty much recovered from the trauma of the Night of the Smoke Alarm, so I’m invited to go to Greece with her family in August! They’re renting a house on some idyllic island untouched by time (except that there’s electricity, etc.). I said I thought it sounded terminally COOL. After all, GREECE is the cradle of Western Civilization. Disha said we’ll be on a beach, not in Athens, and anyway, she doesn’t think Greece is civilization’s cradle – it’s more like the nursery. I said so Rome’s the cradle, but they’re pretty close to each other, aren’t they? And she said actually it’s Iraq that is the cradle of Western Civilization – from when it was called Mesopotamia. Neither of us is sure how a beach holiday fits in with the Dark Phase, so we’ve agreed to take a short (and much-deserved) break. After all, even God rested on the seventh day. We’ll continue to think DEEPLY and be creative, of course, but we’re going to forget about jazz and Albert Camus for a while and ENJOY ourselves. (To tell you the TRUTH, I never finished The Outsider, even though it’s pretty short, and I always lose track of what the song is in jazz unless there are words.) Disha said we should look on this as ANOTHER BIG STEP ON THE LADDER OF LIFE. She said she thought it could be a v broadening experience. Apparently there was a story in the paper about a teenager who fell in love with a waiter at the hotel where she went on holiday and then ran away from home to go back and marry him. (Disha’s always reading newspapers. I don’t usually bother because everyone knows that they never tell you the truth, and if there’s one thing the Dark Phase has taught me, it’s that there’s enough lying in everyday life without looking for MORE!) Disha said what if we fall in love in Greece? I said I didn’t reckon either of us was about to fall in love with a waiter.
Not everyone’s going away for the summer. Flynn, Marcus and David are all staying in London (poor sods!). Flynn and Marcus get to sleep till noon and play video games all night, but David’s dad is making him work in China Gardens, his takeaway (no gardens, and miles from China Town, never mind Beijing). We all commiserated with him, of course, but – if you ask me – riding around on a scooter isn’t exactly slave labour.
SATURDAY 14 JULY
Oh, how I wish Ms Staples was my mother instead of Jocelyn Bandry. It just isn’t fair. Of course, I know Life isn’t fair (yet another thing the DP has taught me!), but it does seem to me that my life is more unfair than most. If there was any justice in this world, Ms Staples would be my parent. Ms Staples has a Passionate Soul and a Questing Spirit. She also truly appreciates me (unlike some BLOOD RELATIVES I could mention). Ms Staples would let me go to Greece and expand my cultural horizons. She’d say I MUST GO – my Spiritual Growth demands it. The Mad Cow said, “I thought you were getting a summer job.” (It’s incredible, isn’t it? She can’t remember the simplest thing I asked her to do for me yesterday, but some passing remark made MONTHS ago, she remembers!!!) I said I didn’t recall being date-specific. She said not only can we not afford for me to go away, but if I don’t start earning some money soon, I’ll finally get my chance to see what Oxfam looks like on the inside – because there’ll be no NEW clothes this autumn! (I ask you, what sort of mother would let her only daughter go to school in RAGS?) She said anyway, the house is going to feel really empty with Justin gone and she’d like my company. I said did that mean Justin’s finally been arrested? She said it meant Justin was taking some time off to travel, didn’t I listen to ANYTHING anyone says? I said only the important stuff. Apparently Justin’s tired of taking pictures of poor people in London and is going to South America to take pictures of them there. I asked how it is that she has money to send Geek Boy wandering all over the world to bother the peasants but no money to send me to Greece to expand my cultural horizons. She said Justin’s paying for the whole thing with the money he got from his photographs. I swear he does this stuff just to IRK me!!!
Disha tried to cheer me up over this CRUSHING BLOW (as you know, she’s very loyal). She said that, personally, she wishes she could stay in London with me. What’s the big deal about sitting on a beach all by yourself? I pointed out that she’d be all by herself if she did stay here because I HAVE TO WORK. She said I don’t have to work ALL the time though, do I? I said I would if the MC had her way. It’s just as well slavery was abolished or she’d’ve sold me off years ago. Disha said slavery still exists. I hope no one tells my mother.
MONDAY 16 JULY
I GOT A JOB! Can you BELIEVE IT?!! (The MC can’t.) And I’m not working in Woolies or anything like that, either. (Which, of course, was what the MC suggested. Imagination is NOT her strong point – assuming, of course, that she actually has one). I was going past this V TRENDY Mexican restaurant in the neighbourhood and thinking how nice it would be to eat there sometime (it’s way too sophisticated and upmarket for my family) when I noticed the HELP WANTED sign in the window. As you know, I’m very outgoing, have megatons of personality and like to help people, so I reckoned it was the perfect job for me. Also, I’d much rather work in a place where you might bump into an actor you recognize than somewhere like Woolies – where the only person I’ve ever bumped into is the security guard – so I just went right in. The owner’s name is Mr Saduki (he’s dark and has a moustache, so I reckon he’s Mexican even though I thought they were all named things like Lopez). I was prepared to lie about having experience (on the grounds that I’ve spent YEARS putting food on the table and clearing it away again), but he didn’t even ask. All he wanted to know was when I could start. I said I was available for immediate employment. He said all I had to do was get my uniform together (I supply the white shirt and black skirt or trousers and he throws in the string tie with the silver D – for Durango) and he’d put me on weekday shifts till I learned the ropes. I said I’d have it sorted by tomorrow. He said and no trainers: you have to wear black, low-heeled shoes. Neither black, low-heeled shoes nor white shirts have ever formed part of my essential wardrobe, of course, so I raced home to get some money off the MC to go shopping. Can you believe it? She said she’d LOAN me the money, but I have to pay it back out of my wages!!! (There’s just no end to this woman’s ability to sink to new
depths of bad parenting.) I said since she’s the one forcing me to work, I’d’ve thought paying for my uniform was the least she could do. She said no, loaning me the money was the least she could do.
TUESDAY 17 JULY
So now I know where slavery still exists – in DURANGO! My feet feel like I loaned them to someone else – someone who’s just walked across the Himalayas in too-small shoes (they may LOOK comfortable, but, as we all know, appearances can be EXCRUCIATINGLY deceptive!). And there’s more to this waiting-on-tables lark than you’d think. [Note to self: Don’t EVER for even one second consider becoming an actor, as they all work as waiters until the big break comes, which is a pretty depressing thought if the big break never turns up!] You not only have to write everything down and fetch it and all; you’re meant to do all this v quickly and with a cheery smile (and you can’t stop smiling just because you’ve got a customer with the personality of Margaret Thatcher). And then there are the Kitchen Staff, who, I notice, Mr Saduki kept pretty quiet about yesterday. There are three of them and they all look like they’ve got form, probably v recent. Not that this has made them grateful for a chance to go straight and make an honest living. They’ve all got MAJOR attitude problems and do nothing but grumble and snap your head off. It’s all pretty strenuous and stressful. Not only are my feet ABSOLUTELY KILLING me, but my face aches from smiling so much! Also, the other waiter on my shift comes straight from hell. Her name’s SKY! (If you ask me, it should be BOSOM, since her breasts enter the room at least a minute before the rest of her!) She’s a complete KNOW-IT-ALL in the Catriona Move-Over-God Hendley mould. I tried to ignore her, but it was très difficult since she spent the entire day TELLING ME WHAT TO DO. By the time I limped into the Staff Room (otherwise known as the Broom Cupboard) at the end of my shift to get my things, I’d decided I wasn’t coming back. But God finally took pity on all my suffering. One of the waiters on the next shift was in there reading a newspaper (maybe they’re not as big a waste of time as previously believed!). I thought My Heart had Died and Gone to Heaven. My first thought was: So this is what humans are meant to look like! His name’s Ethan and he’s Australian (most of what I know about Australia comes from those beer ads and a documentary I saw on how badly the Aborigines were treated, but, of course, I said that I’d always wanted to go there). He’s only just started too, but he’s been a waiter for over a year. He’s almost twenty, and looks like he spends a lot of time outdoors (surfing, etc.). In addition to being so good-looking, he’s practically a walking advert for God: Ethan’s extremely nice, v sophisticated and staggeringly mature (it wasn’t a tabloid he was reading!). All I can say is THANK HEAVEN I never made up my mind about getting serious with either Marcus or Flynn!!! Can you imagine the agony if I wasn’t FREE?!! Have decided to give Durango a second chance.
Sappho was looming in the living-room when I got home. (And when I say LOOMING, I mean it. I’ve never seen anyone SO PREGNANT – she looks like she’s carrying triplet elephants. Given her sexual preference, I find it ASTOUNDING! You’d think lesbians would be incapable of pregnancy, wouldn’t you?) Sappho wanted to know how I like the Working Life. I said I don’t think it’s a patch on the Life of Leisure. After that, all she talked about was indigestion and back pain, etc. (all of which are apparently integral parts of pregnancy). It was dead boring so I went to my room to think about Ethan, which is a lot better than thinking about morning sickness!
WEDNESDAY 18 JULY
The only reason I didn’t burst into tears and WALK OUT when the man who ordered the Chihuahua Chicken yelled at me so much that I knocked his water over (For God’s sake – chicken … beef … what’s the difference? They’re both full of hormones!) was the thought that I was going to see Ethan again. Even when Miss Bazooms took over, I didn’t lose it. Not even when she told the bloke I was NEW and hadn’t caught on yet in this très patronizing voice. You’ll see that face again, I told myself. Be cool… God must be feeling a bit guilty about me, because for once this demonstration of maturity and self-discipline was actually REWARDED instead of punished. Ethan was right where I left him yesterday! His smile nearly turned me to mush but I rallied enough to ask if he was waiting on tables because he wants to be an actor. He said no, he’s waiting on tables because he wants to be a waiter. His Passion is travel (he’s already been to India!), and being a waiter means he can always get a job. I said I’m going to South America after my A levels, as I believe that experiencing a new culture is worth très more than anything you can get from books, and he agreed. He said South America is his next destination too! He wanted to know where I was planning to go in South America. I know there are quite a few countries down there, but the only ones I could think of at such short notice were Mexico (because I spend half my life filling tiny cups with pickled chillies, etc.) and Colombia. I said Colombia, because Durango is as close to Mexico as I ever want to get! He said he thought that was very brave of me – because of the gorillas. I said I didn’t know they had gorillas in South America; I thought they were only in Africa. He thought this was HYSTERICAL. By the time he stopped laughing, I’d worked out that he meant guerrillas as in soldiers, not gorillas as in large primates (I must’ve been paying more attention to HIM than what he was saying, which is understandable!), so I acted like I’d meant it as a joke. Ethan said that, all kidding aside, he thinks it’s important to have a sense of adventure. I totally agreed.
Had to wash my shirt BY HAND tonight because I got something red on it (if you ask me, dark PINK would be a much better colour for our uniform). I only hope it doesn’t rain, since the Mad Cow refused to put on the heating just to dry my shirt, because it’s THE MIDDLE OF JULY. I bet if it was Justin she would’ve cranked it up as high as it would go. Maybe I should’ve bought more than one shirt. [Note to self: When you have children of your own, don’t treat them the way your mother treats you! Be nice to them!]
THURSDAY 19 JULY
NEWSFLASH!!! Mr Saduki isn’t Mexican; he’s from Pakistan. Of course, this piece of information came from Sky (which is where she acts like she’s talking to me from). Trying to be friendly, I asked her if she thought Mr Saduki brought the blankets and crap he’s got on the walls from Mexico with him, and she said did I mean the Mexico that’s next to India? Sky said she reckoned Durango’s the closest Saduki’s ever been to Mexico. She thought it was ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS that I didn’t know he was from Pakistan. I said well, he looks Mexican, and she said he also looks Pakistani and that if I’d ever done any travelling (as she has, of course) I’d know that. [Note to self: Discuss with Disha the fact that people from opposite sides of the world can look so alike.]
I live for the end of my Day of Toil and my few stolen minutes of Bliss with Ethan. If it weren’t for him I wouldn’t put up with this crap for a single second!!! (You wouldn’t believe how RUDE and SNOTTY a lot of customers are. Today this woman made me take her meal back THREE TIMES!!! It took so long she could’ve gone to MEXICO for lunch!) Ethan said he overheard the blokes in the kitchen talking and he thinks the reason Mr Saduki wasn’t too bothered about me having any experience is because half his staff quit last week and he’s desperate. I said thanks for the compliment and laughed (which was the first time I’d laughed ALL DAY!). Ethan said he likes a girl with a sense of humour! Which is ME, of course. Everybody says I should be a comedian. I said it’s too bad the chef didn’t quit. The chef, whose name as far as I can work out is Gonzo, has already told me off FIVE TIMES. Ethan said not to take it personally: chefs are known for being temperamental because of the stressful, creative nature of their work. I didn’t want to start disagreeing with him before we’d even had one date, but I don’t see what’s so stressful or creative about wrapping some beans up in a pancake. I definitely think I’m about to Fall in Love!!!
Today I got something green on my shirt! [Note to self: If you ever work in a restaurant again, make sure you choose a country whose cuisine isn’t so colourful. Like Tibet. All they eat in Tibet is rice.] If I have to wash it out
EVERY NIGHT, it’s going to be in shreds by the end of the month. As soon as I get my wages, I’m back to the West End for more white shirts. I wonder if they have any that are stain-resistant.
FRIDAY 20 JULY
So how was YOUR day, Janet? Bloody awful. I wasn’t even supposed to be working today but someone was ill, so (out of the goodness of my heart) I said I’d do an extra shift. This was a MAJOR MISTAKE. First of all, turns out it’s Ethan’s day off. I was so DEVASTATED I nearly burst into tears. Naturally, since I was so traumatized, Sky was on top form. (There must be a place people like her and Catriona Hendley go to learn how to be a real cow – NOBODY could be born that way!) I couldn’t fill a salt cellar today without being told I was doing it wrong! Saduki adores Sky, of course. Even if it was possible to look ANYWHERE and not notice those breasts, he wouldn’t (I’m not even sure he’s ever seen her face!). He’s just a dirty old phoney Mexican. The second reason this day was the bottom of an abyss of misery is because I’ve worked my feet to a pulp for nearly AN ENTIRE WEEK – and what do I have to show for it? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. (Well, almost absolutely nothing. I’ve got my tips, but they’re not exactly what I was expecting. I thought you were meant to earn a fortune waiting on tables, but I don’t have enough to buy a single white shirt, never mind anything I ACTUALLY WANT!!! Apparently they keep your first week’s wages, just in case. I said just in case of what? Saduki said in case I break something. The only thing I’m likely to break in this job is my back or SOMEBODY’s neck. Anyway, I got home tonight feeling about as down as you can get without actually falling through the earth. I really could’ve done with a nice meal and some pleasant company. DREAM ON! Of course, I’m all on my own. Since my paternal parent moved in with Nan, the Mad Cow must be bored having no one to argue with, because she’s NEVER home (even in the summer she’s got her reading group and her yoga and some class that sounds like Pontius Pilate). Also, now that Sigmund’s gone my maternal parent is taking a new interest in her appearance (I don’t have the heart to tell her it’s way too late). Most women her age go in for plastic surgery (which, in the MC’s case, would be TOTALLY UNDERSTANDABLE), but she’s decided on a permanent diet instead. Which means there’s no real food in the house. So I microwaved myself a couple of her diet dinners (they taste all right, but there’s not much to them), since even though I’m allowed to eat as much as I want at the restaurant, I wouldn’t touch the crap they serve if I was starving. (I actually saw Gonzo making barbecue sauce out of Coca-Cola and tomato ketchup, which was enough to put me off restaurant food for life.)