ATTITUDE

BY: HOPE

 The alarm clock rings.

I push the button to quiet the irritating noise and pull the covers up to my chin. I drift in and out of sleep. A voice from somewhere in the far recesses of my mind, is nagging for me to get up and go to work. I ignore it, only to awaken forty minutes later.

This is going to be a close one. If I'm lucky, I can still make it. Of course, my hair won't do what I want, but it doesn't look too bad pulled back with a clip. My bangs are a mess, so I wet them with water and roll two large pink rollers into them. By the time I get dressed and put on my makeup, they should be curled enough.

My dress is freshly-ironed and hanging in the closet. I hop around, pulling up my pantyhose and putting my makeup on at the same time. Finally, I'm ready. No time for even a glance in the mirror, because the bus is pulling up in front of the house.

Feeling quite proud of myself, I slip into a jacket and shoes and run down the driveway. There is a thin sheen of ice on the blacktop, our first frost. My shoe slips, but I remain standing. It would take a lot more than a little patch of ice to bring me down.

As I near the bus, the driver opens the doors. My foot hits another ice patch and sends me into a slide. I land on my hands and knees, almost directly under the bus.

I get up quickly, to hear the bus driver telling me I should have worn boots. He's laughing, as are the rest of the occupants on the bus. Like I had time to think this morning, what the Hell does he know?

Surveying the damage, it becomes obvious that a change of clothing is in order. My nylons are a mess of runs and holes and there is absolutely no way I am getting on that bus now. I give the driver a dirty look, which only makes him laugh all the more. Whatever! Jerk!

Back at home, I rummage through my dresser, finally finding another pair of hose. I pull off the ripped pair and check the new ones for runs. They're perfect, right up until I tug one leg up and watch a huge run form. Must have broken the nail when I fell. Just great!

Okay, time to rethink my plan. Of course, I will have to take a taxi to work and spend nearly two hours of my wages. All this, so I can sit in some strange guy's car. I shudder, recalling the promise to myself, after the last cab ride.

The driver had looked like a Hippie from the sixties and smelled like that was the last time he'd bathed. He was really wield and kept staring at me and telling me I smelled really good. Scary.

Well, it can't be avoided, so I call and order a taxi, hoping I don't get the same guy.

Tonight is laundry night, there is absolutely nothing to wear. I find a pair of black pants and put them on, swearing when I see the hanger creases. I spray them with water and smooth them out. Now, I'm peeved off and soaking wet.

A horn blares outside and I grab a beige sweater out of the drawer and put it on. Once again, I struggle into my coat and kick aside the shoes that caused all the trouble in the first place. I choose instead, a pair with rubber-back soles. Not the most attractive, but traction suddenly holds greater importance than fashion.

As I get into the back seat of the car, I notice that the driver is clean-cut. The cab is also relatively fresh, this guy must bathe...good.

Conversation is the last thing I need right now, so I settle back, after giving my destination to the driver. He seems polite enough, except that he keeps looking at me in the rearview mirror, averting his eyes, when I glare back. He looks as if he wants to say something, but changes his mind. Fine...whatever. Like I feel like talking anyway.

The staring is making me nervous though and the strange look on the cab driver's face is just too weird. I watch to make sure he's making the right turns, ready to jump out, if necessary.

Safe. The car stops in front of the department store where I work. I pay the driver and get out. Just before I do, he says, "Miss...do you..oh, never mind...have a good day." I toss him a nod and freeze him a glare.

The managers are standing at the doors, unlocking them for the staff. I paste on a smile and step inside.

"Good morning." One of the managers says. He's laughing at me, must be the creases in my pants. I look down. No, not there anymore. My coat isn't dirty from my fall either.

My department manager turns to me and starts to laugh too. Stupid idiots. I need this, after the morning I've had.

"Starting a new fad, are you?" Another asks. I gingerly put a hand to the throbbing at my temple and gasp. The curlers! The bright pink, huge curlers! Oh no!! I knew I was forgetting something.

I somehow manage to get through the morning, despite the ribbing. It's funny at first, but becomes tiresome after the fiftieth joke. They really shouldn't mess with me today.

My boss is a jerk. He's five years younger than me and I have no idea how he landed this job. I trained him, you'd think that would merit a little respect. No, he has a major power trip going on.

He tells me to put up a display, one which I know is completely wrong. I am not above pointing out his error in judgment, but he's the boss, I am to follow his directions.

Fine, whatever. I put up the stupid display.

To make everything perfect, today is the day we get a surprise visit from Head Office. I politely say hello and stay busy at work, in order to avoid this power-hungry jerk, as well as my boss.

No such luck.

My boss calls me over to the display I told him was wrong. He and the Head Honcho are standing there, discussing the mechanics of properly training staff.

"Why did you put up this display? I told you to do something entirely different." Boss-Man asks.

"But..." I begin.

"Just change it." He shakes his head and lowers his voice. "She'll catch on, I'm sure."

Head office shrugs and looks at me like he wants to know why I haven't started working on the display yet.

Fine, you jerks!! I change it.

During lunch hour, a friend from another department and I, run errands. This is a weekly ritual and we enjoy leaving the confines of the store on Fridays. We eat at a fast-food restaurant, where I order a grilled chicken sandwich and a banana split. I ask for the low-fat yogurt ice cream and no whipped cream. Quite simple. The twit hands me the banana split, with pretty little dallops of whipped cream. When I tell her the mistake, she sighs and moves to the garbage can. One by one, she removes the dallops of whipped cream, banging my plastic spoon on the edge of the can. After sticking the tainted spoon back into the bowl, she slams the mess down in front of me.

Cannot even the simplest thing go my way today? I motion to a man wearing a phony Franchise smile and politely describe what his employee did to my banana split. She is chastised by her boss. Guess she didn't realize who she was dealing with here. Should have lost the attitude.

My friend stops at a variety store and waits in the car, while I run in. Every Friday, without fail, I tease her about how messy her car is. I complain that there isn't even room to put my feet down, because of the garbage.

I quickly get what I need and leave the store, glancing at my watch. We'll have to hurry, or we'll be late. When I get back into the car, I start to laugh.

"What did you do, put all the junk from the back seat onto the floor here?" Before going into the store, there had been a mess of paper on the floor. Now, there were two baseball gloves, a hardball and a bat added to the pile of junk. I shuffle my feet amongst the mess, kicking it aside.

"Well, that'll teach me, for saying you keep a pig of a car." I glance over to the driver's seat, because my friend hasn't said a word yet.

"I think you have the wrong car!" The woman is one I'd never seen before and is she Pissed! Not only did I invade her space and get into her car...I insulted it. My apologies are waved away and she tells me to "Get Out!" How can she not see the humor in this ridiculous situation? As I look at her, a fourth apology on my lips, I see my friend in the car next to us, laughing her ass off.

When I get back into the proper messy car, she tells me I really should have stayed in bed this morning.

Back at work, I see two managers laughing at the antics of my boss. He's gotten a huge box from the stock room, one big enough for him to stand in. He'd cut holes to see out of and was walking inside the box. The two female managers are laughing.

I stop my pricing and try to figure out how they find this funny. Boss-man lifts the box over his head and glares at me.

"You. Get back to work." He turns his back on me and puts the box over his head again.

Right, I'll get back to work, while you act like the idiot you are. I put down the box of merchandise I'd been pricing and go to refill the ticket gun. Jerk.

Mr. Head Office has not left the building, as we had all thought. He asks me where Boss-Man is and I point mutely toward the direction where I'd last seen him.

Just as I peer around a large shelf, Head Office witnesses Boss-Man stumble over the box I'd left behind. Not orchestrated, or planned, but the result is gratifying nonetheless. Boss-Man falls flat on his face, inside the box, at Head Office's feet.

"Who left this..." Boss-Man sees me first and I don't even try to hide the flash of triumph in my eyes. Get yourself out of this one, you Horse's Ass.

Boss-Man is gathering up his belongings, probably already rewriting his resume in his little pea-brain. He leaves, without even saying goodbye. I'll miss him.

Head Office is leaving too, but I call to him, waiting for him to walk to me this time. I tell him about the display and describe how I would have set it up, if left to my own devices. I also say that I've been waiting for the proper opportunity to let him know that I trained Boss-Man, because he'd doctored up his resume. I didn't want to cause any trouble, so I'd remained quiet, until now.

Head Office is appalled that he had made such a poor judgment call regarding Boss-Man's character.

At five o'clock, I leave work with a new job title; Department Manager. Shouldn't have messed with me today.

©1997 

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