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rainbowfic2016-04-14 09:46 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2016-04-14 09:46 pm
Bone #11, Plant Party #18, Wet Concrete #2
Name: kay_brooke
Story: The Prime
Colors: Bone #11 (body bag), Plant Party #18 (bat flower), Wet Concrete #2 (The kids will grow up to be assholes.)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas
Word Count: 1,520
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Tabitha gets ready for an interview.
Note: I'm gonna dump on Tabitha some more, 'k? Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Thank god for the ubiquitousness of WalMart, Tabitha thought as she strode through the sliding doors and past the smiling greeter. She was only a five minute drive from where she had to be, and she had twenty minutes to get there. Which gave her just about enough time to get ready.
Or at least she hoped.
The restroom was completely empty when she entered, every stall standing open and free. She glanced at the accessible stall, but guilt drove her into one of the regular ones--for about thirty seconds, until she realized there just wasn’t going to be enough room to move around, and nowhere to put her bag. There was a space on the stall door where it looked like a hook used to be, but it was no longer there. Plus the toilet seat was liberally streaked with something Tabitha didn’t want to ponder too hard. So she vacated that stall and went into the bigger one. At least it had an intact hook, and she was able to hang her clothes across handrail.
As soon as she closed and locked the stall door the restroom was invaded with what sounded like at least four teenage girls, and she breathed a sigh of relief that she had gotten in there before they did. Ignoring their ear-splitting laughter and crude comments to each other, she slipped off her shoes and stood on the floor in her black socks. She wouldn’t have to change those, thankfully, and so wouldn’t have to figure out a way to keep her bare feet from touching the grungy tiles. Next she shimmied out of her jeans, folding them up and placing them over the handrail. Shirt and bra came after that, and even though she was in a locked stall she felt self-conscious, so she pulled her fancy bra out of her bag and put it on as quickly as possible.
She slipped a pink camisole on over that, then her freshly-ironed crisp black pants, the ones her mom had bought for her over her own protests. She hadn’t worn them since, so they were still like new and no worse for the wear from sitting folded in her bag all day. There was, however, a spot of fuzz that for a moment she mistook for a stain, but it came off easily with her frantic brushes. Tears sprung up even as she breathed out in relief, and she fumbled with the pants button, an image of her boss coming unbidden to her mind.
“Oh my, that bag looks full,” her boss said, her narrow gaze belying her friendlier words. “What do you have in there?”
“Just a change of clothes,” Tabitha said, shrugging and hoping that would be the end of it.
But of course it wasn’t. It never was when it came to her boss.
“Going out tonight?” Her boss replied, and Tabitha was sure that was a badly disguised sneer crossing her face. “You know you’re working tomorrow morning, or did you forget that?”
“I have never once forgotten a shift, don’t make it sound like I’m a chronic no show”, Tabitha had so badly wanted to say, but she didn’t dare. “I didn’t forget,” she said instead. “I won’t be staying out late.”
“You come in with a hangover, you’re fired,” said her boss.
“I’m not going out drinking.”
“Right,” her boss said with a sniff before mercifully walking away.
The memory did nothing to help the tear situation, and Tabitha squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t know what she had done to make her boss despise her, but despite that Tabitha had never once been late or shown up drunk or even called in sick, the way her boss went on about it anyone might think Tabitha was the most irresponsible employee the company had ever seen. It didn’t matter if her coworkers came in hungover or worse, because her boss’s disapproval was only for Tabitha.
The teenagers were still there, taking up the whole row of sinks, when she finished buttoning up her blouse and left the stall. “Excuse me,” said Tabitha. “Could I get in there real quick?”
One of the girls turned to her with hooded, disdainful eyes. “We ain’t done yet.”
Her friends tittered.
I am an adult, Tabitha told herself. I’m not intimidated by kids half my age. “I’m kind of in a hurry,” she said. “Could I just have one sink?”
The girls ignored her. Tabitha clutched her bag, wondering if talking louder would help. Maybe threatening them, but she had no idea what to threaten them with. Maybe she could just do her makeup in the car. A quick glance at her watch told her she had ten minutes left.
“Cara, aren’t you done yet?” one of the girls yelled, making Tabitha jump.
“Yeah,” came a voice from one of the stalls. “Sorry, I was just on Facebook.”
While sitting on the toilet? Tabitha thought with a shudder, but the girl in question emerged from the stall, washed her hands, and then all four of them fluttered out the door, leaving Tabitha alone once more.
She immediately jumped toward a sink and set out her makeup, taking care to avoid the wet spots. She leaned close to the mirror as she began to apply, to make sure it was perfect. There could be nothing off about her, nothing to make the interviewers dismiss her as soon as she walked into the room.
“No,” her boss said to Tabitha’s request off, even though Tabitha had given her plenty of advance notice. “We’re in the middle of the busy season. I can’t have you taking off.”
“Could I have a half-day, then?” Tabitha asked, because that was better than nothing. Her interview was in the afternoon, actually after her shift at work was over, but not so long after that she would have time to go home, get ready, and still be on time. “I’ll work the morning.”
“No,” her boss said again. “What makes you think this is a negotiation? And don’t even think about calling in sick because I’ll know you’re lying.” She tapped the side of her head. “You are planning to stay over tonight?”
“What?” Tabitha had said. “Why?”
“It’s the middle of the work day,” her boss replied, slowly and loudly as if Tabitha was stupid. “You’re not on break, but you’re in here talking to me instead of out there doing your work.” She gestured around her office.
“You called me in here,” Tabitha had said, fiercely telling herself not to cry.
“Are you saying you don’t plan to make up the time you owe me?”
The restroom door banged open, making her jump and smear lipstick over the side of her mouth. A tiny girl no more than three flew in and slammed right into her, making her drop the lipstick and stumble into the nearest stall. The girl shrieked wordlessly at her.
“Maddie, please watch where you’re going,” said a woman who must been the little girl’s mother. She had come in right behind the girl, holding a sleeping toddler in her arms. She was also visibly pregnant. Tabitha tried not to think about the horror of having three such young children at the same time and cleaned off the excess lipstick.
“I need to go potty!” the little girl screamed.
“Then go!” said her mother. “Please, go!” She made no attempt to apologize to Tabitha for her daughter nearly knocking her over. Tabitha tried not to feel too bad about it. She got treated like a thing with no feelings at work, so why should she expect differently elsewhere?
Her lipstick tube had rolled under the sink, and Tabitha could see that it had left rose-colored marks against the floor, and the intact part had already picked up a layer of grime and lint. She decided to leave it. Sweeping the rest of her makeup back into her bag, Tabitha headed for the door.
“Excuse me!” said the mother, apparently deciding Tabitha was an entity after all. “Excuse me, are you just going to leave that lipstick all over the floor?”
I do not feel guilty, Tabitha told herself as she ignored the woman and left the restroom. Other people feel perfectly entitled to leave far worse smeared all over public restrooms. I do not feel guilty.
She did feel guilty. She tried not to think about it, though, as she headed out the door.
kay_brookeStory: The Prime
Colors: Bone #11 (body bag), Plant Party #18 (bat flower), Wet Concrete #2 (The kids will grow up to be assholes.)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas
Word Count: 1,520
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Tabitha gets ready for an interview.
Note: I'm gonna dump on Tabitha some more, 'k? Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Thank god for the ubiquitousness of WalMart, Tabitha thought as she strode through the sliding doors and past the smiling greeter. She was only a five minute drive from where she had to be, and she had twenty minutes to get there. Which gave her just about enough time to get ready.
Or at least she hoped.
The restroom was completely empty when she entered, every stall standing open and free. She glanced at the accessible stall, but guilt drove her into one of the regular ones--for about thirty seconds, until she realized there just wasn’t going to be enough room to move around, and nowhere to put her bag. There was a space on the stall door where it looked like a hook used to be, but it was no longer there. Plus the toilet seat was liberally streaked with something Tabitha didn’t want to ponder too hard. So she vacated that stall and went into the bigger one. At least it had an intact hook, and she was able to hang her clothes across handrail.
As soon as she closed and locked the stall door the restroom was invaded with what sounded like at least four teenage girls, and she breathed a sigh of relief that she had gotten in there before they did. Ignoring their ear-splitting laughter and crude comments to each other, she slipped off her shoes and stood on the floor in her black socks. She wouldn’t have to change those, thankfully, and so wouldn’t have to figure out a way to keep her bare feet from touching the grungy tiles. Next she shimmied out of her jeans, folding them up and placing them over the handrail. Shirt and bra came after that, and even though she was in a locked stall she felt self-conscious, so she pulled her fancy bra out of her bag and put it on as quickly as possible.
She slipped a pink camisole on over that, then her freshly-ironed crisp black pants, the ones her mom had bought for her over her own protests. She hadn’t worn them since, so they were still like new and no worse for the wear from sitting folded in her bag all day. There was, however, a spot of fuzz that for a moment she mistook for a stain, but it came off easily with her frantic brushes. Tears sprung up even as she breathed out in relief, and she fumbled with the pants button, an image of her boss coming unbidden to her mind.
“Oh my, that bag looks full,” her boss said, her narrow gaze belying her friendlier words. “What do you have in there?”
“Just a change of clothes,” Tabitha said, shrugging and hoping that would be the end of it.
But of course it wasn’t. It never was when it came to her boss.
“Going out tonight?” Her boss replied, and Tabitha was sure that was a badly disguised sneer crossing her face. “You know you’re working tomorrow morning, or did you forget that?”
“I have never once forgotten a shift, don’t make it sound like I’m a chronic no show”, Tabitha had so badly wanted to say, but she didn’t dare. “I didn’t forget,” she said instead. “I won’t be staying out late.”
“You come in with a hangover, you’re fired,” said her boss.
“I’m not going out drinking.”
“Right,” her boss said with a sniff before mercifully walking away.
The memory did nothing to help the tear situation, and Tabitha squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t know what she had done to make her boss despise her, but despite that Tabitha had never once been late or shown up drunk or even called in sick, the way her boss went on about it anyone might think Tabitha was the most irresponsible employee the company had ever seen. It didn’t matter if her coworkers came in hungover or worse, because her boss’s disapproval was only for Tabitha.
The teenagers were still there, taking up the whole row of sinks, when she finished buttoning up her blouse and left the stall. “Excuse me,” said Tabitha. “Could I get in there real quick?”
One of the girls turned to her with hooded, disdainful eyes. “We ain’t done yet.”
Her friends tittered.
I am an adult, Tabitha told herself. I’m not intimidated by kids half my age. “I’m kind of in a hurry,” she said. “Could I just have one sink?”
The girls ignored her. Tabitha clutched her bag, wondering if talking louder would help. Maybe threatening them, but she had no idea what to threaten them with. Maybe she could just do her makeup in the car. A quick glance at her watch told her she had ten minutes left.
“Cara, aren’t you done yet?” one of the girls yelled, making Tabitha jump.
“Yeah,” came a voice from one of the stalls. “Sorry, I was just on Facebook.”
While sitting on the toilet? Tabitha thought with a shudder, but the girl in question emerged from the stall, washed her hands, and then all four of them fluttered out the door, leaving Tabitha alone once more.
She immediately jumped toward a sink and set out her makeup, taking care to avoid the wet spots. She leaned close to the mirror as she began to apply, to make sure it was perfect. There could be nothing off about her, nothing to make the interviewers dismiss her as soon as she walked into the room.
“No,” her boss said to Tabitha’s request off, even though Tabitha had given her plenty of advance notice. “We’re in the middle of the busy season. I can’t have you taking off.”
“Could I have a half-day, then?” Tabitha asked, because that was better than nothing. Her interview was in the afternoon, actually after her shift at work was over, but not so long after that she would have time to go home, get ready, and still be on time. “I’ll work the morning.”
“No,” her boss said again. “What makes you think this is a negotiation? And don’t even think about calling in sick because I’ll know you’re lying.” She tapped the side of her head. “You are planning to stay over tonight?”
“What?” Tabitha had said. “Why?”
“It’s the middle of the work day,” her boss replied, slowly and loudly as if Tabitha was stupid. “You’re not on break, but you’re in here talking to me instead of out there doing your work.” She gestured around her office.
“You called me in here,” Tabitha had said, fiercely telling herself not to cry.
“Are you saying you don’t plan to make up the time you owe me?”
The restroom door banged open, making her jump and smear lipstick over the side of her mouth. A tiny girl no more than three flew in and slammed right into her, making her drop the lipstick and stumble into the nearest stall. The girl shrieked wordlessly at her.
“Maddie, please watch where you’re going,” said a woman who must been the little girl’s mother. She had come in right behind the girl, holding a sleeping toddler in her arms. She was also visibly pregnant. Tabitha tried not to think about the horror of having three such young children at the same time and cleaned off the excess lipstick.
“I need to go potty!” the little girl screamed.
“Then go!” said her mother. “Please, go!” She made no attempt to apologize to Tabitha for her daughter nearly knocking her over. Tabitha tried not to feel too bad about it. She got treated like a thing with no feelings at work, so why should she expect differently elsewhere?
Her lipstick tube had rolled under the sink, and Tabitha could see that it had left rose-colored marks against the floor, and the intact part had already picked up a layer of grime and lint. She decided to leave it. Sweeping the rest of her makeup back into her bag, Tabitha headed for the door.
“Excuse me!” said the mother, apparently deciding Tabitha was an entity after all. “Excuse me, are you just going to leave that lipstick all over the floor?”
I do not feel guilty, Tabitha told herself as she ignored the woman and left the restroom. Other people feel perfectly entitled to leave far worse smeared all over public restrooms. I do not feel guilty.
She did feel guilty. She tried not to think about it, though, as she headed out the door.
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Or, y'know, magical adventures.
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Thanks for reading!