Jenny rested her arms on the bathroom sink and leant forward, examining her face. If Blair was the type who’d only employ the young and beautiful, then she would have to look as beautiful as could be when she handed him her resume. She was only twenty-five; she wasn’t that old! But Joey was correct: it appeared as though only school-leavers worked at Uncle Blair’s Wares and if she wanted to be given a chance, she’d need to at least look like them.
She slowly slathered her face with more foundation than she had ever slathered on in her life. Not enough to be considered ‘cake-face’ of course, that would severely lessen her already slim chance, but it was certainly more than she would normally wear. Carefully, she lined her eyes and brushed mascara over her lashes, then gently swept a soft hint of raspberry gloss over her lips and a cherry glow over her cheeks. She smiled at her reflection. This was the best she had looked in years; surely her appearance would impress.
Grabbing her hair in both hands, she wrinkled her nose as she pondered a nice hairstyle. Perhaps a braid. Tied into a bun. Yes. That would look both stylish and tidy and should work in her favour. Taking several strands between her fingers, she began twisting them together.
“Jenny, Jenny, Jenny. Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, it’s Blair’s!”
Jenny nearly lost hold of one of the strands as Joey appeared behind her reflection, but she managed to keep her grasp on it and hurriedly completed the braided bun.
“Joey, Joey, Joey. You can’t just walk into the bathroom when someone is in there.”
“The door’s open and you’re not naked.”
Jenny rolled her eyes and spun around, ready to snap at him, but stopped as he offered her a full-dimpled smile.
“You’re very pretty.”
“Thanks.” She cleared her throat, slightly humbled by his compliment. “Look, I need to get back to work. The Divine Touch was a massively bad idea, but I need this. I need money. I need to rent my own house and pay my own bills and,” she cleared her throat again. “Buy my own stupid muffins.”
“But you don’t need to pay rent here, and I’ve got the bills covered, and I just bought you some muffins.”
“Yes, Joey. But I feel like a freeloader. If I get this job, I can at least contribute to your bills, and pay for my own muffins, and then I can find somewhere to rent and won’t be taking up all your space.”
“You’re not taking up all my space.”
Jenny closed her eyes and released a short, irritated breath. How could she possibly explain this to someone who quite clearly didn’t have a care in the world? Joey had lived a blessed life and hadn’t experienced the same hardships she had. He had inherited this great house and a boatload of money from his aunt and he never hard to worry about these things. He just didn’t understand.
“Thank you, Joey. But I can’t just rely on you. I need to get back on my feet and get back to living again!”
“Paying other people the money you earn from other people is hardly living,” he muttered. “Where’s the fun?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Jenny turned back to the mirror. After giving herself one final inspection, she deemed herself perfect and ready to go. She was as pretty as she was ever going to be and hopefully she looked acceptable enough to be an older lady working in Blair’s youth-laden grocery store… or bakery!
“Okay. Whew. All ready. Wish me luck!”
“I’ll save you some sausage,” he said, patting her shoulder before disappearing.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence!” she yelled after him.
Straightening her blouse, she strode into the loungeroom and grabbed her folder off the table. This was where she kept all of her important documents: birth certificate, tax information, and of course, copies of her resume.
With the folder tucked into her bag, she guiltily picked her phone up from the floor where she had thrown it earlier. There were sixteen missed calls from the Divine Touch and one very snarly text message from Sophie herself. Jenny read the message twice over and lowered her eyes. Should she respond to it, or just let it be? A lump grew in her throat and she hastily swallowed it down. This was a very small town and if by some luck she actually got this job, a job at the one and only grocery store in town, it was very likely that she would see Sophie again. The least she could do was say that she was sorry.
“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled out loud as she responded to the message. “I apologise deeply for leaving without a word, but I was in shock. I was unaware that the Divine Touch offered a Happy Ending service. Thank you for offering me the opportunity to work with you, and once again, I am so incredibly sorry for the inconvenience I have caused.”
There. It was done. She had nothing more to feel guilty about.
Shoving her phone into her back pocket, she stood up straight and proud and walked out the front door, and winced as she was greeted by yells, thumps, and crying children emanating from the derelict house next door.
The truck that had nearly thrown her into the air had gone but all of its contents were now littered across the footpath and front yard and a dirty shitbox of a car was parked half up the gutter, forcing her to walk on the road and around the mess before stepping foot upon the path once more.
“Get your fuckin’ eyes off my property!” A bedraggled woman in ripped jeans, an oversized basketball shirt, with a broken cigarette hanging from her mouth shrieked as Jenny walked past.
“Who the fuck you talkin’ too?”
The slovenly man hung his head of the window, his chin-rolls nearly rolling down the side of the house as he bellowed.
“None of your fuckin’ business, cunt.”
“Don’t call me a cunt, you fuck!”
A child inside cried louder, then started to scream.
“Shut up!”
Jenny rolled her eyes and hurried onwards, not wanting to engage the pair. This was just what she needed: bogans living next door. With neighbours like this, she had even more reason to score this job, save up some money, and get out of Joey’s house. Clutching her bag tight, she held her head high, held her breath, and kept walking.
“Yeah, yeah, dog. Keep walking! Fuck off — right off!”
She rounded the corner and released her breath in a great, relieved sigh. Bogans were an unpredictable people. She would have to remind Joey to keep the house locked up and the windows closed every day from now on. Hopefully they were inside and didn’t notice her when she came back home.
Soon Uncle Blair’s great white building rose up in the distance. It was a truly impressive establishment and Blair certainly had an eye for flare; you could see it from a good kilometre away, especially in the afternoon as the white bricks shone beneath the sun and bathed the store with a golden glow. Out the front of the store were grand gardens that showcased vibrant flowers in extravagant displays that were perfectly planted in various designs. It was a bastion of colour that directed shoppers into the store and seemed more suited for a display at a botanical reserve rather than something outside of a place one acquired groceries, or muffins.
The great glass doors whooshed open and invited her inside, and she stood a little taller as she made her way to the courtesy desk. She must make a good impression. She would be confident, dazzling, and beautiful; a wonderful addition to this man’s franchise.
A young girl fresh off the cover of a teen magazine stepped over to the counter and flashed a brilliant smile.
“Hello! How may I help you?”
“Hi!” Jenny tried flashing a similarly bright smile. “I was wondering if I could see Blair, please? I’d like to hand in my resu—“
“Thank you, dahling. I’ll take it from here.” A tall, svelte man appeared and gently shoo-shoo’d the girl away. Tossing back his head and smoothing back his hair, he placed one hand on his hip and with his other hand he rapidly clicked his fingers. “Resume, dear.”
Jenny blinked, momentarily stunned. She had never met Blair before, had only seen him on the advertisements on TV and in the newspaper, but she wasn’t quite expecting such a flamboyant character. She assumed that was just an act for his ads.
He clicked his fingers again and huffed.
“I don’t have all day, sweet cheeks.”
“Oh, o-of course. Sorry.”
Jenny offered an apologetic smile and quickly whipped out a copy of her resume from her folder.
Blair took the sheet of paper tenderly between a thumb and finger and dangled it in the air, staring at it for an overly long moment. Jenny tried not to squirm as he looked at it, and instead stood as still as she could manage and kept her smile fixed firmly in place. At last he looked back at her, this time with a condescending eyebrow raised high.
“You’re a little old, aren’t you?”
Jenny cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders.
“No, sir. I’m only twenty five, and I have years of customer service experience to offer! I’m sure my age and skillset would be beneficial to you and your store.”
“Skillset.” Blair snorted. “Sweetheart, an untrained monkey could learn to be of use to a customer. Any animal can be trained. At Uncle Blair’s, we’re all about appearance.”
He placed both hands beneath his chin and fluttered his eyelashes as he examined her face and ran his eyes up and down her body.
“I must admit, you do look as though you could work here. But, your age… your age!” He raised a dramatic hand to his forehead. “Alas, your application is the first I’ve received and I’ve been advertising for an entire week! A season of very busy business is upon my doorstep and I am desperate — desperate! — desperate enough to give you a chance.”
Jenny’s cheeks reddened. This entire exchange was insulting, but she, too, was desperate. Desperate enough to give Blair a chance. As he said, an untrained monkey could work customer service and she, at least, had plenty of experience already. She would be better than a monkey; perhaps after a few days she could even earn a modicum of respect from the man.
Resisting the urge to place a hand on her own hip and imitate Blair’s eye-fluttering, she swallowed down her pride and forced her smile to widen.
“So, when can I start?”
Helloooo! It's Day Two of a sudden onset of Writing Madness -- a NaNoWriMo-inspired challenge that uses the daily #freewrite prompt to help create a full story within the confines of a mere month.
@mariannewest's prompt for today is -- flower garden -- and I thought that this prompt was perfect to use for describing the outside of Blair's great establishment. I think, when rewriting this and editing it, this would probably go better in the first 'part' when they go to Blair's for the very first time. But that's the whole point of this. Writing all the words now and re-arranging them later!
This is a very rough first draft of an upcoming book and will be tidied up and polished after this Month of Madness is finished. 😊 It might read like fast-paced-rushed-word-garbage at the moment, but it will be refined! (I over-edit like a madwoman.)
Title is a placeholder and will probably not be the final name of the book. 🤣 This story has nothing much to do with whistling but the local pub is called the Whistling Fart, things will go down there, and there will likely be a terrible amount of fart jokes. Because I'm uncultured and farts are funny. 🤷♀
Today's wordcount is 1,817
Total wordcount is 4,267 / 50,000
📝 A Quick Blurb 📚
Genre: immature adult comedy, reverse coming-of-age, apocalyptic silliness
Warning: irreverent, offensive humour
Jenny is a young lady in her mid-20's who finds herself out of work, out of home, and out of luck. An old friend from school has invited her to stay at his house until she gets back on her feet, but she just can't seem to land on them.
Every job opportunity she finds goes spectacularly wrong. The Great Fungus is spreading across the world and consuming all in its path. Then, to top it off, a solar flare renders electricity a thing of the past.
Faced with the end of the world as she knows it, Jenny has a choice. Will she embrace this apocalyptic madness... or will she, too, be consumed by the fungus?
Thank you for reading! 📚😊
See you tomorrow for Day Three! 📝🤓