Mum demanded we start applying for summer jobs after we got our university acceptances, even though we both got full-ride scholarships at the University of Toronto to do a double major in Theatre (Margie’s choice) and English Literature (mine). Mum really pushes for normalcy at every turn, which I can usually appreciate, but this time I was irritated with her. A full-time summer job left little time for pleasure reading and I had just discovered Nabokov.
After a resumé blitz in our neighbourhood, we were hired on as stock girls at Honest Ed’s, which is this massive chintzy discount department store just a few blocks from our apartment. Honest Ed’s is a living monument to tackiness: a Vegas-style marquee of a*****e taking up an entire square city block, plastered with slogans and cheesebal
