SLAVEDRIVER

TRICE I opened the bottle of tequila and poured myself a shot. That s**t burned my throat so bad I had to shake it off. That’s what you get for spending $30 on the cheap stuff. But that’s all I could afford at the moment - the cheap stuff. Laura had said she’d bring food. She at least had a job and was a foodie, so I knew I would be eating well this Mexican Monday. I was sick of ramen. I’d had it every day for the past five days. As month end approached, my willingness to spend any kind of money diminished. I splurged on drinks for tonight because I’d been a Mizer these past couple of months. If it wasn’t instant coffee then I was drinking water – tap water at that which I boiled and refrigerated. I’d reacquainted myself with the bottle store which was my go-to during my college years instead of bars and clubs. I preferred to drink indoors where I could lose myself or fall asleep in peace and safety. Crowds weren’t really my thing and I was drinking on a budget. I was always on a budget. I thought things would change when I graduated and got a corporate gig but the universe said no – not today. I was down to my last $1000. Between the pandemic and the bull market bubble teetering on the brink of collapse, the world was moving into a global recession. Between the online classes and the graduation that didn’t feel like much of a graduation since they mailed us our degrees, I don’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. I’ve been on a fruitless hunt for a job for the past three months and I have nothing to show for it. Nada. Zilch. No one was hiring. I had even tried firms in different cities and even in different states but the response was the same all around, either they were on a hiring freeze or they were in the process of downsizing. One of the HR managers I’d spoken to had taken the liberty of dumping his speculations on the industry on me despite my not asking. Apparently, no one was spending money in this economy and even less so for infrastructure let alone the design of said infrastructure. It would be a couple of years before things went back to normal. Just thinking of that conversation had me pouring and throwing back another shot. A knock on the door pulled me out of the depressing reverie. It must be Laura, my best friend and roommate from college. I picked up the bottle and plastered a smile as I opened the door in greeting. "Hey Bi- " I didn’t even finish that sentence as I found myself standing toe to toe with my landlord. Mr Chow had been on my case every week for the past three weeks over rent. I was hoping I could secure a job that would pay for this month and the next without having to dip into my meagre savings. “You have no money for rent but money for drinking!” “Mr chow, it’s not-” “I don’t care. I want my money or I throw your stuff on the street come Monday,” he announced before walking off. “This is not what it looks like,” I voiced to his retreating back, trying to explain the very compromising way I'd opened the door. “What do I look like? Mother Theresa? No charity here!” he threw back. His voice trailed off and I could hear him going on a tirade in Mandarin. Not that I understood, but I surmised he was not happy with me at all. I slammed the door and tipped the bottle to my lips. Bottoms up. I shivered but not as badly as I did with that first hit. It may not taste that great, nonetheless it was strong enough to get the job done. I'd spent the last $50 in my wallet getting the ingredients together to make us some cocktails. I cut up the limes, lemons, and rimmed the glasses with salt for starters. I had a sweeter recipe I wanted to try out later once we're done with the savoury jug. There’s a knock on the door and this time I’m pretty sure its Laura. However, I left the alcohol on the counter and smoothed down my hair and sweats just in case the universe was being a d**k and decided to throw another curve ball at me. “Special delivery!” My friend sang, holding up two bags of food. “How much food did you get?” I asked, stepping back and allowing her in. “Everything. Nachos, burritos, tacos and fajitas. Both beef and chicken,” she added with a wiggle to her eyebrow. My stomach rumbled in anticipation. I thought I'd lost my appetite, clearly not. It was excited for something other than noodles. I hugged her in gratitude. Food is our love language, and we had the fuller figures to show for it. I pulled back and shouted, “Shots!” ready to get the evening under way and forget my problems for the next few hours. I’d had more than a few and I was feeling kinda toasty. I poured her 2 tots, peppered her hand with salt, and handed her a lime. She threw both back, licked off the salt, and bit into the lime with a grimace. “Whoooo! I’m wide-awake baby. Let’s get this party started,” she bellowed. We laughed and got to work, setting the food out while I took the jug and glasses over to the lounge which was only a few feet away from the kitchen, which was a few feet away from the bedroom. I lived in an open plan, bachelor’s apartment. The only semblance of privacy one had here is the bathroom. Everything else was out in the open. I may have to get something smaller which is crazy because I don’t even have that much space. I’d been looking and the price didn’t match the offer. It’s unbelievable how in a recession the cost of rent had gone up. If no-one is spending and not many are hiring, then how on earth did these people expect us to pay more than before? If I paid Mr Chow the $750 I owed him in rent for the month then I’d be left with $250 to live off and then… I didn’t even want to think about what would happen after that. As much of a pain as Mr Chow was being, he’d been great over the past two years in keeping the rent consistent and attending to any and all maintenance problems. I loved this little apartment – it’s my home. When Lauren moved in with her then boyfriend and I got this place, I was working as a campus tutor. One of the pits of graduating is that there was no longer a tutoring job for me to attend to since I was no longer a part of the university which is how I'd landed myself in this precarious predicament. “Earth to Trice,” Lauren waved a nacho in my face trying to grab my attention. When I came to, she popped it into my mouth. “Where’d you go?” I scratched my forehead not knowing where to start. “I feel like a failure.” “What? How? You just graduated.” “And now I can’t get a job.” “But that’s not on you. That’s the vicissitudes of life. These things are cyclical. Give it a few months and I’m sure something will come up.” “I don’t have a few months. Rent is due, my landlord was at my door shortly before you arrived.” “s**t. Do you need money? You know I got you.” “I can’t take money from you. And more importantly, how would that help if next month I’m in the exact same position, you know?” Lauren nodded her head in understanding. She got a good job a couple of years ago. She finished school a year before I did – seeing that I wanted to pursue a masters. She’s also really good at networking. She managed to snag her gig as an industrial psychologist through someone she met at a party in her final year. I’m awkward and self-conscious. My weight has been an issue since high school when the mean girls started calling me ‘Fatty Patty’ and it stuck. I hated my name back then - Patricia. I'm over it now but I can't stand when anyone calls me Pat or Patty. Hell no! Now my friends call me Trice and you’re likely to find me in a corner watching people as opposed to in the mix talking to people. It’s why I loved architecture. I got to design the places for people to congregate. I could imagine how they’d move through a space from the outside looking in. Don’t ask me what I would do in said space. Not my department of focus. “I’m thinking of looking for a gig as a waitress just for now,” I voiced out my alternative. “What? No! That doesn’t even make sense. It’d be a total waste of talent.” “A bartender?” She gave me an incredulous look. “Are you hearing yourself?” “I’m not above an honest day’s work, Lauren.” “I know that but those gigs are just so incongruent to your personality. You love take-out over dining in. You went to a club once and a bar twice and said never again. You’ve remained true to that. Here here!” she raised her glass in a toast. I rolled my eyes because she’s missing the point and there’s nothing to celebrate. “Babes, I know things are tough but you can’t get desperate now.” “But I am desperate," I whined. I pulled the bowl of nachos closer and started feeding my feelings. My taste buds did a little happy dance as the guac and sour cream mixed and crunched in my mouth. We both ate in a comfortable silence. Why couldn’t life be as simple as this -good food shared with a good friend. Nooo it had to tack on work and bills and taxes and god knows what else to ruin all the fun. Lauren unwraped her burrito and took a few bites chewing thoughtfully. “I may have something for you,” she said, looking over at me. “You know a place that’s hiring?” “Yeah, it’s an investment firm in an entry level position…” “I’ll take it.” She side-eyed me and continued, “You have to interview first. It’s short notice but they’re meeting candidates at their offices at 10AM.” “I’ll be there!” “You don’t even know what the position is. What if they were looking for a janitor.” “Does it look like I care?” I said around a mouthful of nachos while grabbing the other burrito. I was excited at the prospect which made me even more excited to eat. “At least prepare for it. One of the executives is looking for an assistant. I hear he’s quite difficult to work for.” “You got it babes! I plan to blow him away with my attention to detail and hard work ethic.” “The company is called Cerberus” she’d put her food down and was now on her phone tapping away. “As in the three headed dog?” “Uhm yeah, but they deal with money not canines. I’ve sent you the email.” “Thank you so much, boo! What would I do without you?” “Probably lose some weight.” We both laughed at the thought and cheers with our burritos. Things all of a sudden didn’t seem so bad after all.