by Unknown
Well, if they offered I wasn't about to turn them down. After being repeatedly assured that this was a complementary for being a paying customer I accepted the offered paper and asked if they had Johnny Twelve: From Home to the Stars and Back Again. To my utter amazement, they had the record I’d been scouring and pestering the local record shops, mail order services, traveling merchants, and pretty much anyone I felt could direct me to a copy for the past six years over. It had been on my 'to listen to' list for the better part of a decade, so this turn of events has more than made up for the earlier discomfort about their pricing.
Now then, with coffee in hand and paper by my side I set about searching both the help wanted and commerce sections. Sadly, they apparently didn't serve plain black coffee here, so I ordered French vanilla. While the rest of my breakfast was being prepared, I hummed to whatever was in rotation at that moment. To my dismay most of these positions appeared to be desk jobs, not that I couldn't take dictation, as the pages before you hopefully proves, I take pride in my literacy and deftness with a pen. It was just that I would rather take a more active position if at all possible. Even as I mentally sorted these to the bottom of my list I noted several stores in need of some sort of help or another. These I shuffled higher on my list.
I suppose there are some of you out there that are wondering why I would take menial labor over what would presumably be work that involves less physical exertion, higher pay, and presumably other benefits due to the job itself. Its been my experience that most of the buildings these clerks are shoe-horned in have poor ventilation, are generally smoke filled due to the majority of the workforce taking the edge off their stress by smoking.
Add to this discomfort by a boss that breaths down your neck every half hour about a project deadline, to shove more work down your throat, or to inform you that somebody else isn't in and you have to pick up their slack. Now do you begin to get the idea why I don't like desk jobs? It's simply not worth the stress involved. Working a register, however, is something I have absolutely no problems with, and there are several such positions open it seems.
There's my food, bacon, eggs, two biscuits, and a little gravy to dip, or drizzle, or whatever. Three dollars seemed steep, but consider that by this time the record I asked for has started playing, the crossword lay before me even though it has a note scribbled in the margin asking that patrons not work the crossword on the paper itself as well as a spare sheet of paper as well as a pen, presumably to serve as a placeholder, I was satisfied I was getting my money's worth.
Small pleasures these may have been, but if one didn't stop to enjoy the simple things life gives you and seek only to enjoy the grander aspects of living, then your life would be filled with many disappointments and few rewards. Trust me, I had seen people go down that road and I rather enjoy my approach better, its allowed me to curtail much of the anger and frustration in the world, though that doesn't mean I wouldn't be annoyed at what life throws at me, such as the bill. Three dollars. Deus and Deities this is one of the most expensive meals I've eaten in a good long time.
On the Prowl
The first place I went to seemed to have already found someone to work the register, though it seemed they were still searching for someone to stack the shelves. I politely told them that if nothing else came up I would be back to see if they're still in need. Not that this work was beneath me, but I would rather try out my other options before returning here, after all it was a rather steep drop in pay and an equally steep increase in the amount of labor for that pay. Before I left I heard compliments from both the lady that owned the store as well as the boy at the register about my suit. Father would have been proud, as he had always taught that the impression made by a good suit and polite manners can win anyone over in time.
The next place I went to had a similar situation, save that it was the manager's son that worked the register, quite badly by the looks of things. While they were polite, they were far less so than the first place I'd gone. As I walked I debated on if I should go back or not, and decided it would be better if I didn't unless there literally were no other options. On the way I ran into, almost literally, a familiar face.
"Jenny?" Of all the places she could've gone she had to be here. I was somewhat amused by this as I made sure the olive skinned happy-go-lucky walking oddity was undamaged. "What brings you here?"
She chuckled, and then readjusted her scarf. "Same thing you are I suppose. I'm looking for work." Ah, of course, the activity of the day. "I had thought to see if any of the theaters here were interested in hiring me on for the summer. You?"
"Er- looking to see if any of the stores here need a pair of hands." It didn't sound nearly as grand as what she wished, but then again while I was a fan of performance, prior experience has taught me that I was ill suited to be anything other than a spectator, or perhaps somebody working back stage to ensure everything went smoothly.
Jenny's face brightened then, without permission or warning, she grabbed my right hand. "I know just the place!" Despite having a somewhat longer stride than her I felt hard-pressed to keep up as Jenny drug/led me to a knickknack's shop that'd somehow been shoe-horned in between clothing stores. "Well, what're you waiting for? They're looking for help, and you've told me you like working with kids, and you're good with numbers." To emphasize her assertion I should go she gave me a gentle, but quite firm, shove towards the building in question.
It seemed as soon as this was done she was gone again. How she disappears, seemingly at a whim, I haven't the faintest clue. Its somewhat eerie, and more than a little disturbing, but she's a kind soul. She was also one of the few others that had openly supported my choice to take Billy in. If she thought this place was somewhere I should go, then who was I to argue, especially since she wasn't there to argue with.
Date 4 June
Mood: Nervous
The interview itself seemed to be of little consequence when compared to the store itself. All manner of items were crammed in bins, stacked on shelves, or were arranged on tables. The displays themselves seemed rather haphazardly created, as if a school-room full of children had recently just been told to put everything away before scurrying off to lessons. How anyone could make sense of this, much less enforce it?
The answer seemed to pop into existence just behind me as a youngish looking woman walked in, and almost as if by magic, a short fellow garbed all in green and surmounted by an equally green top hat bowed to her, introduced himself as 'the spirit of giving' then started leading her around, asking the bewildered woman questions in rapid succession. Then, almost without any warning at all they stopped at a particular display before the woman's face lit up like a room full of arch lamps. 'It's perfect!' she exclaimed. A whole army of metal solders was just what her two boys had asked for, apparently, and with so many they wouldn't have to fight over who got to play with what.
The diminutive salesman pulled a bag out of his coat sleeve with a flourish and helped her gather the diminutive men before both headed towards the register, which happened to be where I was standing. Both seemed to take my presence as a manner of course and seemed to expect me to ring the lady's purchase up.
"What," I begin as I scanned the layout of this particular register. "Is the total ...uh…? Sir?" I looked to the emerald clad dwarf. I suppose leprechaun would have been more appropriate, but that had always brought to my mind maniacal tricksters no bigger than your thumb willing to fleece you for everything you had, and this man seemed just the exact opposite. He held up five fingers on his left hand, made two fists, held up eight fingers, then three before nodding, all this done behind the woman's back. Odd, but I attempted to run with it.
"Five eighty three ma'am." she handed me six dollars, which I quickly made change for before ringing up the sale and writing a recipe with one of the little squares of paper stacked to the left of the register, presumably for that exact purpose. She practically beamed at me as I tipped my hat to her before she left.
"A fi
ne job lad." the dwarfish fellow nodded approvingly at me. "Quick wit, polite, and a snappy dresser." He plucked at the hem of my coat, "Why we even match." His grin broadened, letting my coat go to thrust a hand towards me, which I gripped before we let go. "Michael Anderson, but for those that come through the door I'm Finn." He took a step back and bowed deeply, making a sweeping gesture with his top hat. "Finny McCullough, purveyor of amusements for the young and young at heart at your service Mister..."
"Julian Guy Fawkes the Third, or Julies if you prefer." I doffed my hat to the man. A little whimsy to lighten the mood, clever. It was also rather fitting to his personality it seemed, and I would later learn one of the reasons his store did so well.
I couldn't wait to tell Billy. She'd love this place. When I brought the subject of Gholem up Finn waved his hand dismissively, "Fah, they've had a bad deal since the day they were put on this earth. So long as they behave and show the other customers and employees respect I'll treat 'em the same as everyone else." Good! I was worried I'd found a boss that had a wonderful sense of absurdity, charming attitude, and would have to find other work due to prejudices. Bless Jenny for her wonderfully good judge of character.
Evening
I didn't return to the hotel till dusk, as more customers had shuffled through off and on for the rest of the day. This had the effect of keeping me rather busy, and thankfully Finn was there to pick up on the slips I'd inevitably made. I had yet to learn the systems he'd had in place for pricing, organization, or any of that but judging by how he reacted between customers he thought I did well enough to be kept on. It was, on the whole, a good day. Now it was time to give Billy the good news.
"Billy?" I knocked twice before using my key to unlock the door.
After calling again I heard from the other side, "Just a minute!" then after several such minutes passed, "Alright come in." I saw Billy in a dark jump-suit, stout boots, and thick gloves. She must have seen my puzzled expression, as that was the same outfit she wore the day I found her, though the insignia had been removed and it had been died a deep blue instead of its original olive drab. "It's for my new job. They warned me things might get hairy, and these are the toughest clothes I have with me." This was true, since the fibers themselves seemed quite capable of resisting any attempt to cut or rend, which would doubtlessly be quite useful.
I embraced her where we stood, then after another quick squeeze I let her go. "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself."
"I will Julies." She lightly ruffled my hair. "I will." With that she was gone. I had hoped this wouldn't be our new routine. Sadly we saw very little of each other for the next month as we each got used to how things work here. I had decided to omit the doings of this time as they are, by and large, dull and rather routine matters that mostly consisted of each of us adjusting, and my briefly being woken at sunrise each morning as Billy curled around me.
It wasn't much, I suppose, and left much to be desired. However the two of us were doing a fair sight better than many people out in the world, so I'd no reason to complain.
August 12
Mood: Thoughtful
After many discussions, arguments, softer words spoken after those arguments, and sounding each-other out Billy and I had decided not to go back. We were hardly alone in wanting to stay; many others either had found what they feel were better lives here, had nothing back home to rebuild, or had gotten meshed with a local that has convinced them to stay. My family no-longer lived there, and the farm was more a hobby of mine than an attempt at putting the land to work. So I saw no problems in leaving it, title as well as whatever was still there, to the Kent family. They would make the place more productive than I ever have, or at least they'd try.
It had been an interesting summer; more because of how matters had gone between Billy and myself than the change in surroundings. First and foremost was on keeping the jobs we had each gotten shortly after moving. With that taken care of as best as possible our attention then focused on finding a more permanent home than where we were initially renting from. This involved searching for an apartment which would take Billy in, and sadly once most found out my domestic arrangements they, more often than not, slammed the door in my face. Pittbulls and mules had nothing on my stubbornness, and now I had sunk my teeth into what I wanted there was no stopping me from eventually getting my way.
After that it was on to take care of the horses and finding space for our belongings that weren't moved into our new apartment. Lastly we both had eventually found ways to get about town approached by beggars, muggers,or other folk who are interested in selling things I don't wish to buy ('No Sir, while I thank you for the offer I'm not interested in buying Clinton's Pants or Monica's dress. However if you're interested you and the man offering to sell Cheney’s Shotgun or Schwarzenegger's Sword could start a corner side exhibit of artifacts.') Street side hustlers were a trivial matter though, especially when compared to the costs of daily living, food, and transportation within city limits.
Even with all these issues that needed tending to I enjoyed what time I had that wasn’t taken up by juggling expenses, work by taking on several things I had always wanted if given the chance. I wouldn't complain too loudly though since the work itself has been quite entertaining thanks to Finn's lively attitude as well as the general habit of customers to play towards the little fantasy he spun for them. Despite the occasional bruising Billy received, which she insists that its just a case of unruly customers that don’t want to leave peacefully, she seemed satisfied with her work. Always she would tell me, if I asked why she liked it so, 'It lets me be aggressive while getting paid for it.' I guess job satisfaction has been enough reason to stay there. I don’t know, and wouldn't pretend to do more than respect her judgment and be happy she enjoys herself.
On the subject of things I like doing in my downtime
I had, by mid July, found a local Civilian Wireless chapter. Nice bunch of people, though they get more than a bit up in arms if anyone tries fiddling with their equipment. Couldn't really blame them I guess. Those things are expensive and hard to replace. Plus it isn't like I had land enough for a proper antenna, and local building ordinances, not to mention my landlady's general temperament, made the idea of making my own little setup at home unworkable. I had been taking lessons every Monday and Thursday for the past month; plus papers on theory and practical knowledge they allowed me to carry home between sessions. The whole thing wasn't free to join, but as I said, the equipment they keep is costly and everybody chips in however they're able.
Pity Billy mostly only had seen it as an expense we don't need. I guess she's right that it's something I could do without, but till the matter of my getting thrown out of the local library is settled this represented the least expensive means of branching out that I could find that wouldn't involve learning how to crack people's heads open in some form or another. She has generally kept her complaining to a low grumble, mostly because I had brought up her mooning over the airships that come and go. Yes they're lovely things, but they wouldn't hire just anybody, and the skills needed by even the lowest deckhand costs a great deal more to learn than my wireless hobby.
No we shouldn't bicker and blackmail each-other. I know this as well as she does, and I hope this isn't going turn into a habit. Hopefully we can sit down and talk things out in more polite terms, preferably without digging at each-other's dim spots. We have each done things that the other doesn't find appealing. Relationships are full of these things. No need to start fights on either side.
In happier news Finn's gotten in touch with several local craftsmen, toy-makers, and apparently somebody that had good at making joke items; drinking glasses that look like they're covered in flies and filth but were perfectly clean, radios that looked like they smashed in but worked great, hats and other clothes that made people think the wearer had something run through them. These things were the sort my father would have called crude and tasteless, but I’ll admit I got a chuckle out of them now a
nd then. Besides, they always sold well.
August 15
Mood: Annoyed
I've been issued a summons over the problem of what happened at the library. Hopefully it won't be too costly if the Arbiter doesn't agree with my side of the story.
After
I had been fined the cost of repairs via bi-weekly payments. I don't like it, and Billy would either give me grief, or growl over how unfair of them this is, but the ruling is final. I had to pay, else a less unobtrusive punishment would be found. It was an inevitable ruling, but I still felt cheated. It wasn't my fault, and the only reason, as I see it, that I'm the only one punished, is that there's some sort of back-room politicking going on.
I know it's pointless and self defeating to continue hounding after the issue now that a ruling had been made. It's. It's just monumentally unfair feeling. I suppose at the very least they had decided to let me back in, there's a number of books I had wanted to look through. It could be worse, yes. I could have been made to pay damages and still be barred from going there.
I have, for the past few hours, been repeating that to myself till I believe it.
Finn took me out for drinks after work. Nothing odd in of itself really, we're friends after all. The problem was that none of the local bars, clubs, or other normal places seemed to fit. The music was too loud, they played that horrid Fuzz Funk that sets my teeth on edge, or I was constantly set upon by what my Father called 'low women'. Seriously. It's 337, not the 'teens for Deus sake. Even if you wouldn't play current music at least have the decency to play good music instead of this tasteless disposable garbage.
It was there that I first heard the rumors. People whispered once they think I'm out of earshot, or before they realize I could hear them generally annoy me and I let what they were talking about go in one ear then out the other, because most if it was useless, or worse than useless. That night, though, I didn't. Unfortunately these were the sort of tall tale that was too tall to be entirely spit in the wind.