3/13

"Yeah, mom. Sure. Uh-huh". I sighed as I gave the usual, necessary replies to my mother. I wasn't really listening, but I knew what she was talking about. She was talking about what she always talked about when she called.

"Now, your birthday's coming up soon, and you're turning 24. 24! Did you hear me? Twenty. Four. And what have you done with your life? Nothing you're supposed to! This is the prime time to take a hold of your future, start controlling it, but what are you doing?! You're in art school! I curse the day I decided to pay for it, but you had told me it was just a hobby! What an expensive and time-wasting hobby it turned out to be! You could be taking economy classes right now..." her voice droned away, but I had heard the part about my birthday. I'd almost forgotten about it.

"It's only March", I murmured to myself.

"What?"

"My birthday. It's still a month away."

"That is NOT the point, Gerard!" she wailed on the other line as I started to tune her out again. I'd had enough of this conversation.

"Okaymomloveyoutoobye", I said sarcastically, as I hung up, interrupting her. I was going to hear about that next time.
I looked around my tiny, filthy apartment. She wasn't wrong. My life wasn't really going anywhere. Even art school wasn't working out for me. When was the last time I attended a class? I couldn't remember. Maybe I should do as my parents say, I thought to myself. Even if it makes me unhappy.


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I wiped down the rest of the counter, thinking about my plans after work. Coffee shops closed late around here, and The Mocha Club, the place where I worked, was no exception. Maybe I could go to the movies again. It’s what I did with most of my time, besides making coffees. I didn’t even really like the movies they played nowadays, but I liked just being there; I liked the atmosphere. There was this tiny little movie theatre not too far from my house that I went to. It was pretty old-fashioned. I liked to get tickets to a random movie that not many people were watching, and enjoy the feeling as the lights went out, darkness settled, and a movie I wouldn’t pay attention to started to roll. I was lost in thought when I heard my name.

“What?” I asked as I turned around, looking to see who had said it. It was my manager, Flora.

“Gerard, hon, how are ya?” she asked, smacking her lips as she loudly chewed gum. Her hand was on her hip, the other on the counter, her brightly painted nails tapping a rhythm. She seemed impatient.

“Uh, good?” My shift was over, I wanted to leave, too. Why was she striking up conversation now?

“Look, Gerard, we’re letting you go”.

“What?” I asked dumbly. I stared at her over-glossed lips as she opened them to speak again, reading them to understand better what she was getting at.

“You’re fired”, she said simply. Seeing the look on my face, she continued. “Honey, you really shouldn’t be surprised. That incident last week? That customer is never coming here again, thanks to you”.

My mind went back to last week. Some rude customer had ordered a non-dairy drink, saying he was allergic. I had had a bad day, and I was not putting up with his rudeness. So, I’d added a bit of milk. I thought he’d just have a bad day in the bathroom. How was I to know he was actually allergic allergic, not lactose intolerant?

“I wanted to wait a little before I did anything, seeing if you would make up for it. But so far, you’ve done nothing. You’ve even slacked off more”, she shook her head, pursing her lips. “I’ve been starting to wonder; do you even care, Gerard?”

That did it. I felt my face get red hot, and my hands started to shake. I ripped off my apron, threw it to the ground, and got right in front of her face. Looking right into her make-up covered eyes, I said through gritted teeth, “Fuck you.” Then I was out the door, desperate to get away from there. I felt a ton of emotions inside of me. Anger and frustration from being fired, losing the only way I made my money, due to a stupid mistake. Humiliation.
I walked quickly through the streets, my blood still burning. What was I going to do now? Getting a new job would not be easy, and there was no place in hell my parents were going to help me out. Thinking of my parents made me feel more dread. What were they going to think when they learned I had lost my only job?
Arriving at my apartment, I unlocked the door, slammed it behind me, and didn’t even bother to take off my shoes as I fell onto the couch in my living room. I slung my arm over my eyes. I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about anything. I felt angry all over again.

“Fuck them”, I whispered. “Fuck them”, I repeated, louder. “Fuck them!” I practically shouted, jumping to my feet. I was sick of being pressured. I was sick of being told exactly how to live my life. I wasn’t going to live to impress my parents, my family, anybody. I grinned to myself. I was going to do the exact opposite.

Notes