How I Live Now - 9. Day 10.

Day 10.

So, Tuesday didn't go half as bad as I expected it to go. I kept hoping to get an apology from Angela from yesterday. I presumed maybe she had a bad day. People are allowed to have a hard day every so often, but the driveling announcement of "I'm sorry for being a crabby bitch," never came. I'll let it go; I guess one of us has to be the bigger person.

Amy helped me out again today, the two of us were assigned to the kitchenware section, and she showed me how to use a price labeler. I'm really confused by it, but Amy was really sweet that she showed me three times just for good measure. I'm still baffled by it though, not entirely sure if I got all the stuff right. She left me along with the device for 10 minutes while she checked on another newbie, and when she came back, I had mislabeled some blenders. Somehow, I managed to reduce the price by 50%, and before any customers noticed my error, Amy swooped in to save my hide. I’ll admit, I felt embarrassed, having said that I understood what she showed me on the labeler, only to screw it up a few minutes later. Though Amy really saw no harm in an honest mistake, and she just made light fun of the mishap, and it makes me feel good, despite messing up.

Toward the end of the day, some boy approached me and ask for help in finding new pants. Of course, I said I’d help, even though I had no clue where the clothes aisle was located. Just I figured it wouldn’t have been difficult to find. The hottie said he was waiting for someone. The boy had to have been about my age, and he was possibly the most attractive male I have ever seen in my life. The teenager’s olive skin was flawless, his lips soft and lush. His tawny hair looked like a patch of dandelions, his eyebrows plucked, and his ears seemed pinned back. Coupled with deep brown eyes and a warming smile, I got this sinking feeling that I'd seen those chocolate saucers somewhere else, but I couldn't place the connection. Damn you, TV.

It's still bugging me, but I guess I'll never know now. Finally, when I located the correct section, I laughed about being lost in the store I work at, and the boy chuckled, and it made my heart soar. Gosh… what a hottie, I thought. So, here I was, picking up chinos, skinny jeans, joggers, you name it and holding it up for the boy. I'm not sure why I did it, but maybe from afar, you'd be able to make out that I was actively flirting with this boy, and all he could do was giggle. After I realized just how odd and creepy it was holding pants up to this boy, judging if they'd look nice on him, I decided to hightail it out of there. For the rest of my shift, I found it so awkward, and I voted to not help any other customers on the floor for the rest of the day.

Just before I clocked out, Amy approached me with a measuring tape in the cloakroom. I had my own locker but no uniform. I didn't think it was odd until I just wrote it now, but she asked for measurements. I was re-lacing my sneaker, my foot resting on the wooden bench, when she cleared her throat. I peered up.

Amy said, “I want to know how big you are?”

My foot slipped down off the chair, and I had to launch my hands out in front of me to stop from tipping over. The question caught me off guard; the first thought that came to mind was she wanted to see my dick, but then Amy held up the measuring tape when she saw the concern in my face.

Apparently, it was for my uniform so HR could order the store's required outfit. I was delighted to hear that Organico is considering keeping me on; I mean, why would they be investing in me if they weren't going to keep me on the payroll? My luck might be going in the right direction.

So, Amy took the necessary dimensions, and she headed to the office with the details, and I clocked out. I just realized I’m rather skinny. I wonder if I am the skinniest employee the company has ever had to make clothes for in their workforce.

I called Doug on the way home; I explained to him that I wouldn't be able to make it this evening. I didn't know how to tell him that I didn't have the money, but eventually, I eased into the idea of asking him for some time. I asked Doug when it would be possible to move in.

“Tomorrow, if you’re stopping by,” he said.

I said, “I won’t have all the money until the end of the week.”

Doug said, “you can pay me then so,” and the phone call was complete.

It's my last night in this stinking bird, and you know what…? I am pretty happy with myself. Even if everything is not made for me just yet, I do feel like things are looking up.

Talk Soon,

Kyle