Meredith gave me a smile as I came in, and concentrated on her eye shadow application in the mirror. The tall reedy-legged blond woman I saw yesterday was in the corner coaching a timid, average-looking girl on hair techniques. The blond was teasing up the hair of the mousy girl who looked like she wasn’t used to the attention.
I pulled out a seat and dumped my bags, then camped out at a spot at the mirror on the wall. Before I knew it, the blond had come over to me, and was staring at me in the glass.
“I can see how those eyes are going to work for you,” she said playfully, with a raspy voice.
I looked more closely at her. She looked like she was in her mid-30's, or probably older. She was close to 5’10, spindly, and had the look of an older hippie kid in her tie-dyed dress and bright turquoise and pink eye shadow. There was fringe on her leather purse, and woven peace bracelets on her wrists. A Buddha necklace hung limply on her bony collar.
“What’s your name?” she asked with authority. "I’m Susannah. I’ve been here the longest.”
“Thanks. I’m Pale. I just started last night.”
“Back for more, hmm? Well, I’ve been at this a long time, honey, and I know ALL the tricks of hard selling. You’ve got questions or get stomped on, talk to me. I take care of the girls who can stick it out. Consider me the assistant manager to Ransom. Toujours gai, you know?” She turned to go back to her own makeup station.
“Ok, thanks,” I called out. “What was that last thing you said?”
“Always joyful!" she cackled, and did a little dance.
Susannah went back to the mousy girl, who was bent over her tray, concentrating on counting inventory. She was looking a bit more the part in her costume and makeup.
I turned back and got to work on my look.
I looked in the mirror, and tried to gauge the appeal I could play up the most. My hair was a wavy dark brown, nearly black in this light. It was thick, and fell to my shoulders. My skin was pale, a creamy white with no freckles — well, except for the one that’s almost never seen, because it’s inside my left elbow. My eyes were a medium light gray. They tended to intrigue or alienate people, I'd learned the hard way, and were one of the first features that people noticed about me.
I was not as petite as Meredith, but I didn’t tower as tall as Susannah, either. I had really tiny feet. Most people didn’t notice that. I was not strong, but I was flexible. I had the kind of body that’s good for acrobatics. I was using the company's uniform tonight, so I couldn't do much to change the way my body came across. I would need to rely on hair and makeup to develop my allure.
I decided that I would play up my eyes with heavy charcoal eyeliner and a turquoise uniform. Last night the customers were mostly intrigued, and no matter what, those colors would help make my persona stand out. Jana said that I looked amazing in turquoise and I agreed.
Susannah came over to talk to me. She’d changed into a different kind of uniform than the bell hop style, a tie-dyed outfit that was slightly too big for her — it was cute, but I was a bit surprised Selene had approved it — and she had a giant feather in her hair. The lights she was selling were all on, rings and necklaces all blinking a slow, hypnotic rhythm.
“Do you have a tip jar?” she asked.
“What? No. Do I need one?” I replied, jolted out of my stare.
“Of course! It’s how we make half our profit! You need to play up the pity, definitely. If you don’t, you won’t make it, sugar." She walked over to the vending machine, and bought a bottle of water. She opened the water, poured it into a canteen she had, and handed it to me.
“Here you go." I looked at her blankly.
“It’s perfect!” she said, explaining patiently. “You just cut off the top portion, add a tip sign, and stick it in the front corner, where everyone goes to look at the cigs. You’ve got a flashlight, right?”
“Not yet. Apparently I need one?” I asked, hesitating. I wondered how many other accessories I was going to need. It wasn’t like I had planned to sink a bunch of money into the outfit.
Susannah saw my dismay. “Don’t worry, pumpkin. It’s just a few small things to make the sales come in guaranteed. Use the flashlight to highlight the product, right? Like in the training video!
“Definitely you need to make yourself a tip sign; there are pens and supplies on that desk over there. Keep it simple. A really popular one is ‘Tipping is Sexy.’ EVERYONE likes being sexy!” She waved me across the room, and went back to her routine.
I looked around and saw that the regular girls all had tip signs attached to battered water bottles. I grabbed a pair of scissors and started to cut mine in half.
As I cursed under my breath and tried to get the right angle, I heard a drawling, amused voice just in front of me.
“You look like you are enjoying yourself while destroying that, but do you want some help?”
I looked up and saw the most beautiful face grinning down at me.
He had hazel eyes, dark brown hair with red highlights, and a tall, solid body. His leg was bumping my leg gently, punctuating his teasing and breaking me out of my stunned state. His face was a bit fierce, and I struggled to answer. I couldn’t believe no one told me such a complete hottie was working here. I deserved a memo, at the very least.
“Yes, help would be great. I need to cut this in half,” I managed, proud of myself for keeping my cool.
He shot me a glance, seeing through me. He laughed and took the tools from my hands.
“So, you're the new girl. I saw a new name on the dry erase board." He gestured to a white board on the wall I hadn’t noticed before. I saw the names of all the neighborhoods across the top laid out in a grid, with columns underneath to insert the names of each girl going out that evening. My name was listed under “SoMa.”
“Fresh meat! I love it. First night or second?” he said rapidly. He was looking down, concentrating on cutting through the plastic easily and in a straight line. He finished the cut, and then scraped the edge of the scissors along the top so the edge was dull.
“Second night,” I said, looking him over closely.
He beamed another huge, disarming grin, handing me everything back.
“Well, I’ll be driving you tonight, Miss Daisy. Try and keep to the schedule; we leave here in 20 minutes.” He sauntered back to the counter where the supplies were kept. I felt an absence as he walked away, like a cold spot of air in a warm hallway. I turned around and caught Susannah staring at me. She turned away abruptly, so I ignored her.
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I dressed more quickly than last night, and got my tray with my inventory sheet. It went faster than I expected. It must’ve been nerves that clouded me yesterday. I knew the night would be long, but I was more excited today than nervous. It certainly helped that HE was here.
I saw Thom back behind the candy storeroom counter, so I headed over to replace broken wrappings and dead batteries. I had seen girls trading things off their trays both nights I’d been here, which was a high ratio of broken stuff, if you asked me.
Thom gave me a scowl, so I knew he had his grump on again.
“Hey, Thom,” I said, handing him the broken items. “Who’s that guy over there, talking to Susannah?” I asked nonchalantly. Susannah was chatting with The Guy, and he was laughing easily. I felt a stab of envy, but turned back to Thom.
Thom snatched the items from my hands, and turned away, muttering. He responded so quietly, I couldn’t hear him.
“What?” I said, frustrated. My façade of cool didn’t hold very long.
“I said that’s Felix. And don’t pester me with the million questions you have, because every girl in here has asked after him. He’s driving you tonight, so at least you will be off my back,” Thom answered angrily, shoving my replacement items in my hands.
I took a long look at him, and noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the rumpled shirt, and the dirty hands.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” I asked gently.
Thom’s face was frozen for a moment, then his defensive stance slipped completely, as he shook his head No and turned away from me. I decided to leave him to his thoughts. Thom didn’t seem like a naturally bad guy. He was carrying something around; I just didn’t know what it was. Not yet.
I headed back to my tray, and saw several girls shoot me sympathizing glances. I nodded my head in their direction.
Felix had wrapped up his conversation with Susannah — I noticed she was looking very pleased with herself — and stood in the middle of the room. “I am leaving in 2 minutes! Girls who are coming with me, get your asses in gear, the boat is leaving the dock!” He strode outside. There was a small silence as the door slammed shut, and the sunny feeling in the room was gone again.
I heard the sounds of chairs scraping and girls hustling as I scrambled to get my tray secure, grab my purse, and do a last minute check of hair, makeup, shoes and outfit. By the time I had everything on and ready to go, I was one of the last ones out of the office, so I hurried outside.
Felix was waiting impatiently behind the wheel of a minivan. I stood there gaping; this was such a stark contrast with what I thought he would be driving. Felix blew his horn, and gestured behind him for me to get in.
The other two girls had loaded up, leaving me the spot directly behind the driver, the hardest to get into. I hurried awkwardly into the street and had a tricky time getting myself, and then my tray, into the vehicle, all while my door was open to a lane of rushing traffic. Everyone made frustrated noises at me, and finally I slammed the door shut. The van was silent.
Felix said, quite clearly, “If you ever make me wait like that again, I am leaving you at the office, and you can try and make money by staring at a wall.”
I flushed with embarrassment, made even worse by Susannah’s smug grin to herself. I could see her quite well, since she was in the front passenger seat. I cursed silently that I’d ever found such a brute attractive.
The ride was soon filled with the chatter of the other girls, heavily punctuated with Susannah's transparent flirting. I said nothing.
Felix let Susannah out first, then the other girl. She was a bit more subdued than Susannah, but still happy when she got dropped off. Felix was friendly and warm with each of them as they left, wishing them luck.
I was the last one in the van, and as we pulled away from the curb, he glanced in the rear view mirror at me.
“Look, if you are late like that each time, all the girls will start checking their hair for an extra 20 minutes. I grew up with three sisters, I should know!” he laughed at his own joke, giving me an encouraging grin.
I responded coolly, “What section am I working tonight, Boss?”
Felix’s face hardened slightly, but he replied, “I’m taking you to the SoMa run first, then likely the West run again. It’s my understanding you did those last night, right?”
I nodded silently, avoiding his gaze.
We drove through crowded streets, and while I saw something funny a time or two, I didn’t share it with Felix. I was still upset that he humiliated me; he didn’t know that I was rarely late. There was no need to go overboard. Then again, he was right: if one girl were late, the other girls would easily crowd a mirror and stay there for three hours, fussing with every little curl and eyelash.
While I was working through both sides of our tiff, I hadn’t noticed that we had slowed down, and were pulling over in a loading zone.
“So, do you always take this long to work through things?” Felix asked playfully, raising his eyebrows at me as I packed my belongings together.
I gave him a sharp look in the mirror. “Shut up!”
He gave a full belly laugh, half laughing with me, half at me. I was furious all over again. I walked to the curb and leaned in through the passenger window. He handed me my list of bars for the night.
“Ok, Miss Daisy, have it your way!" He laughed again. “I’ll see you back here in 45 minutes. Try not to be late!” He chuckled to himself. He was terribly handsome when he was laughing, and it didn’t help matters.
I gave him another scathing look and said, “Oh, I’ll be here! And that's Ms. Daisy, to you.”
He was already rolling up the window and driving away. Asshole. Infuriating, arrogant, gorgeous, friendly, deceptive, reasonable asshole!
I stomped towards my first bar, slowing down my pace, and took a breath to find my Zen. Jesus, he was so exasperating!
In truth, my second night was not a whole lot different from my first. I was still nervous yet thrilled, and still anxious about sales and obsessed with doing a good job and time management, if only to prove Felix wrong. Tonight, though, I was also distracted by thinking about him: his smile, his laughter, and his easy manner.
I continued to play the ‘I’m new, it’s my first night’ card, as Meredith had suggested. From what I could tell, that card got played for the first couple of months. It seemed weird to me that I wouldn’t run into regulars that would know that was bullshit, but I guessed the regulars played along as well.
I was still figuring out how this all worked, trying to find the web of design in the pattern of being out Here, on the Street. You couldn’t lose sight of the danger, but there were people who looked after you: bartenders, bouncers, security guards, taxi drivers, regulars.
There were also those who were not looking after you: drunks, insanely jealous girls, crack heads, pot heads, thieves, and just run-of-the-mill troublemakers. I had certainly caught glimpses of both in the last two days.
I thought about how old the tradition of hard sales was. From carnivals to traveling salesmen, from fortunetellers to Vegas, there were a hundred, a thousand tricks to get someone to be interested in what you had. The best I could hope for was to use my honest face to my advantage.
I was standing outside Cat Club getting some fresh air. The stuffy, hot atmosphere of the bars kept me plenty warm, making the chill of the night air a relief. The silk top I wore was not only long-sleeved, but padded, so warmth wasn’t an issue. I made a mental note to check for a cooler outfit as the weather got warmer.
A man in a hat broke me out of another daydream about Felix by shouting, “Hey, Gum girl! Gum girl! Come over here!”
I walked hesitantly towards someone who looked like a celebrity, but I could hardly believe it. There was just no way, no way that Jack Black was talking to me! Jack Black was one of my favorite comedians; raunchy, self-obsessed, and totally unapologetic about his sloppy appearance and disdain towards anyone who didn’t love rock n’ roll like he did. He got me in touch with my inner 13-year-old boy, and I adored him for it. My heart jumped even further up my throat, but I walked calmly over to him and his entourage.
As I got closer, something seemed off about Jack’s face. His eyes were too beady; his hair was too wavy and styled. He was pudgier than Jack in the waist, and he was shorter as well. His hat read, "Anti-Hero." He sidled up to me, very oily in his movement.
“Well, Hell-o, there! I‘m Jack Stack, a look-a-like for Jack Black in every way, baby, EV-E-RY way. Right down to the see-through boxers, if you know what I mean. Want to see my power stance? Of course you do.”
He pulled back from me in a surprisingly fast motion, jumping in the air slightly, landing with his legs spread and holding an imaginary guitar in front of him. He looked so triumphant as he let go of the “guitar” and thrust both hands up in a #1 symbol, I broke out laughing, my disappointment vanishing at the cartoonish display in front of me.
Jack Stack took this, sadly, as a compliment, and slithered up next to me again.
“So, what have you got for sale tonight?” he asked me, eyebrows raised.
“Only what’s on the tray, Mr. Big Shot,” I told him firmly, moving away slightly so I could face him. If I knew this type, he’d be in my cash box before I could even blink.
“That’s cool, that’s cool. I just wanted some gum anyway. But you looked so beautiful over there, I couldn’t leave you by yourself,” he said, winking.
We wrapped up the sale, and I had to give it to him, several other people had wandered over to see if he really was Jack Black. I walked towards the intersection to meet Felix, shaking my head.
I thought this job and I were going to get along just fine.