“Where you from?” he asked as he filled his cup.
“L.A.”
“Oh whoa, a California girl, eh? Hot dang. Why would you want to leave California? Everyone here wants to get out to Cali--isn’t that what you call it? Cali?”
Bit of a chatter, this one.
“Once upon a time that was the ‘in’ name, yeah. A little passé now.” I threw him my winning smile to tell him I was being an ass on purpose.
He responded with a slack face. Maybe my ‘winning’ smile was a California thing. It didn’t seem to work in Texas. Maybe a toothy grin was a better way to go.
I had to work on it.
He blinked, a dreamy smile creeping up his face. Then he started laughing. I edged from the room.
“Oh right, passé!” he exclaimed. “Ha ha. Yeah, I am just a country kid, what do I know about the land of movie stars? Ha ha. Well, I am from Austin. The city, you know. But we are still country kids at heart!”
“Anyway,” I said, “I should get back. I have to get settled then start training.”
“Oh sure, yeah. What are you doing, anyway?”
“Some sort of Accounting. Entry level, but I just finished college so I took what I could get!”
“Oh yeah. Got to! Fer sure, right? Fer sure, doood! California! Surfer girls! Ha ha. Anyway, see ya ‘round alright? Ha ha ha ha!” He was shaking his head as I moved away.
What did they put in the coffee here?
Back at my computer, I setup my email with the post-it noting my sign-on, then looked around. I could hear some phone conversations and see a tall, tree-like plant in front of a robust woman across the cube from me. She was putting something away at the back of her cube; otherwise I would only see her in profile.
She had some crazy large hair. It was a teased, dyed blond mass on the top of her head, held there with lots of Aqua-net. Her outdated pant-suit squeezed overly large br**sts until they were trying to bust out the top. It wasn’t doing wonders for her waist, either. She looked like a homemade sausage, all lumpy in weird places.
Unfortunately, it was at the time I noticed her boobs that she noticed me looking at them. Perfect timing, as always.
“You the new girl?” she asked with attitude and a thick accent.
“Yes. I’m Jessica. I just finished setting up--”
“You don’t gotta bother explaining what it is you ain’t doin’.” she interrupted. “Like workin’. Who is supposed to be showin’ you what’s what?”
“Um, Jenny? I’m not sure. I was just told this was my cube.”
“Well, if I wauz you, I would find myself someone to show me my job, and stop gawkin’ like you wauz as nervous as a ling tailed cat in a room fulla rockin’ chairs!”
She turned around in a huff, slammed the drawer that was opened, got into her suddenly burdened chair, and turned toward her computer. She was now mostly out of sight behind the fake, leafy plant.
Je-sus!
Sorry to take your name in vein, Lord, because I am sure you hear me louder here than in L.A., but seriously! What. A. Bitch!
I was still staring in shocked silence when a head popped into view. It was a girl about my age, maybe a little younger, with long, straight brown hair, freckles, and large, almond shaped eyes. Her prettiness was diminished slightly by too much foundation make-up.
“Hi!” she said in a high, almost child-like voice. It wasn’t unpleasant, and I could think of a handful of girls in L.A. that would love that voice attached to their “dumb-blond” image. This girl wasn’t going for that look, thank God, and it made her cuter.
“Hello,” I replied, careful not to say too much in case she turned into a clone of my cube neighbor.
Speaking of my delightful cube neighbor, her face peeped at us through the plant. I quickly focused more intently on this new girl so as not to get a repeat of the tongue lashing.
“I am going to train you. Not fully, of course, ‘cause you are slightly senior in your duties to mine—because you are a college grad. Yay! Congrats!”
“Oh. Thanks. This is my first adult job.” My face got hot.
“Yeah, it’s my first job, too. Real job I mean, like you. I did some Dairy Queen cashier stuff, and was a bank teller before this, which got me this job. But overall this is my first well-paying job. I haven’t gone to college, though. I don’t really want to, either. I’m not that good at school, so I figure I’ll just work my way up in the work world. It takes longer that way ‘cause you have to start lower, but it sure beats school! Well, you probably don’t agree because you went to school and made it through, but that is my outlook anyway.” She had a big smile and giggled a little.
So, a talker then. That was as well because generally I made a better listener. She was a bit ditzy, too, but not in a bad way. Overall, I liked her. I hoped we got along so I had a friend.
Something occurred to me. “You don’t have an accent.”
“Oh well, no. I was city born in Houston. Lived in the city all my life, and there are lots of people without accents there. Grow up with Hollywood movies and TV and all that, it’s easy to escape the southern drawl! I slip into it sometimes. Mostly when I drink.” She lowered her voice at the last sentence and winked at me.
Mental note: Drinking might not be as accepted here as in L.A. Must be careful not to make an ass of myself right off.
Easier said than done.
“Anyway,” she went on, “I am Candace.”
Apparently Mr. Nash wasn’t great with names…
“Jessica. Or Jess if you want.”
“Oh! I thought you were Jenny. Mr. Nash must have got it wrong!” She frowned.
Or maybe he called everyone Jenny?
“My sister is named Jessica! We call her Jess, though, so if you don’t mind I might just call you Jessica so you are cemented as a different person in my mind.” She giggled in a good natured way.
“Will you two girls shut up?!” my neighbor roared.
Candace rolled her eyes and turned toward the angry hornet. “Juniper, why can’t you just be nice for once? Or at least quiet? I’m going to be training Jessica so I’ll be over here pretty often.”
“You trainin’? That’s gonna go over like a fart in an elevator!”
“Real nice, Juniper." Candace replied in sarcastic tones. "Do I have to get Mr. Nash involved again?”
I heard a “Hmph!” and rustling paper. Apparently Mr. Nash was the winning threat.
Candace turned back to me with a sober look as she shook her head. “Anyway, let’s get you started before someone is tempted to eavesdrop.”
Paper shuffled with vigor across the way.
“John Paul will be here soon to set up your email.”
“Oh, I already did that. Someone set up my user ID and I got it started on the computer. Really nice computers by the way!”
“Oh yeah, they really take care of the employees here. They believe that a happy employee is a long lasting employee, which has something to do with staying longer and helping the business, or something.”
“Employee retention. Apparently it’s cheaper to keep the current employees than train new ones. And it’s great for knowledge retention and work flow, which helps the business prosper. So they teach, anyway.”
Candace blinked a couple times. “See, that is why you got the better job. College.” She nodded like the tiny bit I actually picked up in five years was a fountain of knowledge. This is what Jane must always feel like.
“Really advanced that you set up email, though.” she began again. “I still don’t know how to do that. Okay, let’s get--”
Another head popped into the cube, cutting her off.
“Hey girls. I’m here for the computer set-up.” He must have been in his early twenties. If he had hit twenty. Average looking, sandy, short-cropped hair, brown eyes, and a nice set of shoulders. He didn’t look like he worked out, but he had the natural build that most gym men would kill for.
“Hey John Paul. This is Jessica.”
He smiled. “Hi Jess.”
“Hi John Paul.”
He moved as if to come in, but Candace stopped him. “She set up her email and signed on already. She even put on a background pic! She went to college.”
As if basic computer skills were a mark of a truly gifted mind. Jane must truly love her life.
“Wow. That is really excellent Jessica!" John Paul nodded in approval. "You can probably handle a lot of the simpler things as well. That will really help me out. Though you’ll have to call every once in a while so I feel needed.”
Smitten by young, heart-felt male.
He popped out and Candace filled the void. “He’s really very nice. Cute, too!” She giggled. I had a feeling I’d need to get used to giggling. “Off the market, though.”
“Oh? Is he g*y, then?”
“Gay? Oh my Lord, no! He just got married! Too bad.”
“Really? He seems a little young.”
“He’s nineteen, I think.”
“Married?! At nineteen?”
Candace flashed me a quizzical look. “Ye-ah, why?”
“How does someone get married at nineteen?”
Juniper chimed in with, “Easy as fallin’ off a log—if you’re not a hussy!”
Candace and I both looked at her cube, but she hiding behind her plant. All we could see was a mound of blond, teased hair above leaves. Listening to our every word, but hiding.
Candace continued, stepping into the cube and lowering her voice so it was harder to overhear. “Yeah, people here get married pretty early sometimes. High-school sweethearts and all the rest. Not everyone, but there are definitely those that do. He is big into Jesus and going by the bible and all that. I think he waited, for you know…,” she raised her eyebrows to indicate just what he was waiting for, “until he was married, and now his wife is pregnant.”
My world was blown. All that at nineteen? Waited until marriage? Did that happen anymore? What if the other party was awful in bed? Did they only stick to missionary? I would have to talk this over with Gladis.
Funny that the first person I thought to talk to about this was an old woman.
Candace and I got to business after that. The work seemed pretty easy. Spreadsheet for this, calculator and report for that. I learned fast, worked faster, and knew computers. Without any effort I was already ahead of the curve. It was a new field for me, but if it continued to start this slow, I would have no trouble getting up to speed.
The rest of the week basically went as the first day did, only increasingly lonelier. I tried to make up for that by emailing my friends as often as possible—Ami included. She nearly shat herself with glee at receiving my first email—I could tell by the amount of exclamation points—and I learned that while my life was going 800 miles a minute, theirs was the same old slow.
Saturday morning. Throughout the week, I’d met Candace’s work friends, most of which I was okay parting with, but when it was suggested we all go to a rodeo—well, who's gonna say no, eh? It would be my first. And after some of the guys heard that, I no longer had a choice.
I was up and ready well before my ride came to pick me up. I was going with Candace, John Paul, and Dave. At least with Dave driving, he couldn’t stare at my boobs.
The day was hot and stuffy. I was wearing a cute little halter that went to my belly button, and a little white skirt. Not too little--it had to cover the ugly part in back of my legs, and I had to be able to bend over without showing my crotch—but little enough to get the point across.
I heard the honk and saw Candace’s text that they were here. Yay!
When I stepped through the gate, Dave’s beater was parked where my beater had been for half a day—Gladis asked that I park in the warehouse, which she called a garage. Being that the other vehicles in the spacious garage each cost over a hundred-grand each—some well over that price tag and collector's items—I had a feeling it wasn’t for my benefit that my old Honda was stored away.
Three stunned faces greeted me as I strolled down the walk.
“What is she, a movie star? Is she from Hollywood?” Dave asked as I neared the open-windowed car. They must’ve not had air-conditioning, either, being that it was hot enough to fry eggs, and the window was open. Obviously they were in my pay grade.
“Hey Jess,” John Paul said from the front seat, “which movie did you say you starred in?”
“How much time you got? There was a time when you couldn’t throw a stone without hitting a Hollywood Star that I acted with!”
“No kidding! Really?!” Candace shrieked with giant eyes. She leaned across the backseat and peeped through the window.
“No, not really. Yes, I'm kidding. I am renting the cottage out back. And by cottage, what I really mean is pool house. I am renting the really nice pool house, which is a giant for what it is, out back.”
“Man, girl. Just give me a second now. I was thinkin’ you was rich and famous for two seconds. Phew.” Dave shook his head, wiped his pimply face, and looked out the window at me.
“Man girl? Confused on my sexual orientation?” I shook my head. I should have been quicker to climb in, because once he caught sight of my outfit he had a good gawk; mouth wide open, eyes up and down, pausing on my br**sts and crotch. Lovely.
John Paul was looking at me, too, with a veil across his eyes that I couldn’t read. He quickly looked away as I started moving to the back of the car. I could have sworn he crossed himself. I re-checked my outfit, suddenly apprehensive.
“Wow, Jess...ica," Candace gushed as I climbed in, "you look really great! Your outfit is totally cute! I wish I could wear something like that!” Her eyes paused on my necklace, and then swept to my bracelet.
I felt a smile bud. She was almost my speed, genuine, and sweet. Keeper. I felt worlds better about my choice in clothes as it pertained to non-religious types.
“Why couldn’t you wear something like this?” I asked her, strapping in.
“Yeah, right! I don’t have the body for that!” She smoothed her shirt over her D-cups.
“Shut up, Candace! You could totally rock this. Get some confidence and you are golden. I need to go shopping out here anyway—you should come.”
“Okay, that sounds fun. I know some great places. And the outlet mall isn’t too far from here.”
My eyes lit up at the mention of the outlet mall, but I let the matter drop to spare the boys in the car, who were currently silent, probably rolling their eyes.
About half hour later, we arrived at what looked like a small scale fair, and a large scale petting zoo, combined into one. As we went through the entrance, which cost $15, there was a small Ferris Wheel off to the right with a few other mechanical things for people not wearing white. To the left was a large building with a pig in an enclosure out front. Ahead of us stood the back of towering grand stands and a crowd of people mill-and-flocking around. I took that to mean we got here before the activities started.
We wound our way through beer and food vendors—it smelled delicious—and off to the right. Before we got to the kiddie rides, we veered back left, heading around an open area that must house the event.
That’s about when I noticed all the horses. They were everywhere! Tied to trailers, to fences, led around, ridden! It was like a real-life Western! And guess what came with horses? Horse poop. I started looking down as often as up.
We rounded a corner through the make-shift horse village and I got my first glimpse at what the stands were looking at. Nothing. Caged nothingness. A big, open, oval, dirt area. That’s it.
The expanse of circular dirt was enclosed by a white, metal gate made out of piping. Or, at least, that’s what it looked like. At the back end stood a solid structure, interrupting the gate and housing an electronic sign, similar to a basketball score board. Along the metal gate ran various colorful banners for local businesses.
We walked on until we joined a crowd of onlookers. Weaseling between them, I got a chance to see what everyone was so inte
rested in. Bulls. Lots and lots of bulls. Large, brooding animals with bent heads, flaring nostrils and giant testicals. Sometimes with evil, hard, and jagged horns adorning their blunt heads.
It was a sight to see.
The beast closest to me faced the crowd. Its shoulder to about my chest, the monster looked through his enclosure with a confident, hostile gaze, daring anyone to come within its territory.
I took a step back.
“Hey Jess, how you doin’?”
Phil stepped beside me--he'd come in the other car. About my age with a blond ponytail, I didn’t mind talking to Phil. He was a bit slow, due to large amounts of a green bud, but still a decent sort of guy.
“Oh hey, Phil. Pretty good. How are you?”
“Doin’ good. Doin’ real good. You excited for the rodeo? First one! I just can’t believe it.” He looked at me with a hazy smile. Definitely a stoner.
I laughed. “Yes, I am ready to lose my rodeo cherry.”
Phil’s eyes flashed and his face lit up in a hopeful expression.
John Paul chuckled, stepping beside us. “Easy boy,” he said, looking around me to meet Phil’s eyes. “With all her options, being the closest doesn’t give you precedence. Besides, you move so slow you could watch paint dry--gotta be quick for the Californian!”
John Paul aimed a playful punch at Phil, who surprised me by ducking and weaving, firing back a quick retaliation.
“Boys!” I yelled in equally good humor. “I might be the oldest one of you two, but I am no babysitter.” I pushed them both away.
“You ain’t older’n me,” Phil said, stepping back in close. Possibly a little too close.
John Paul raised his hand. “Guilty. You are ancient.”
“Oh, nice J.P.!”
John Paul looked mildly shocked with my choice of nickname, but not displeased, which was a green light to keep using it. It was a fleeting thought. We were in the middle of the burly animals now, all uncommonly still.
I felt my mind hush, watching them as they were watching me.
Why were they so still? Were they plotting something? They had a bunch of people roaming around and staring at them. Their new territory was sometimes shared with another dude. I didn’t know bulls, but I did know dogs and men, and both would’ve been barking or fighting. Usually both.
Breene, K F - Jessica Brodie Diaries 01 Page 6
