clairefail

[clairefail]

Leap into the unknown

Chloe woke to the sun piercing her eyeballs through her shitty, broken blinds. She was bleary and hungover, and slow to rise. Despite her bedroom looking over busy Dekalb Avenue in Brooklyn, the street was quiet. At 10:00 on a Tuesday most of her neighbors would be at work. As she came to she groaned and turned over, looking at all of her possessions crammed into this tiny room. To the right was a small closet crammed so thickly with party clothes there wasn't any room for even one more hanger. Beside the closet was a dark walnut vintage sewing desk. A perky Singer sewing machine was perched on top of it, although Chloe barely knew how to use it.

It helped contribute to her self proclaimed image as a DIY, anti-capitalist, self-righteous activist, however inaccurate it may have been. At one time, Chloe did believe in these ideals, and on some level still did. However, as her period of unemployment dragged on, she found herself wanting more stuff. It didn't matter what stuff, just anything to make up for the months of spending as little as possible. She was lucky to live with 3 roommates; it made the rent on her room only $560, an absolute steal.

She was actually amazed she was able to scrape by on her unemployment check. When she had been laid off 8 months ago she had been certain she would get a new job right away. She always had in all her years of working before. Things were desperate sometimes. Her phone got shut off more than once but she always figure it out. It’s not like she had ever been late on her rent. She was scared of screwing up that much and having nowhere to go. She had no safety net, no savings, no mom and dad who could help out. It made her careful to never fall too far, no matter what she had to do to scrape by. Eating little and staying in wasn’t much of a hardship, honestly. At least she was as thin as she’d been in years. That was something.

The months of unemployment had made her feel like she didn’t have anything worth offering. Having a desirable body felt like a commodity she could trade on for now while her finances were waning. At the very least it always seemed to make her on-again, off-again girlfriend, Samantha keep her around often enough to get a few nights out and some meals every week. The constant rejection from Samantha was hard, but she always seemed to answer when Samantha called. It was something to do at least. She lived in Staten Island and was from Missouri, making her exotic to Chloe’s sensibilities.

She didn’t know many people from the Midwest, but Samantha seemed like a good representation of them. She was a bit chubby, and didn’t really believe in recycling, or vegetables. Her blonde hair was kept in a dated soft butch swoop, but she used a hair straightener and wore makeup daily. To Chloe it was as foreign as she was to Samantha, and somehow the differences kept sparking interest between them. They didn’t have much in common, actually. Chloe’s previous work had been at a science museum, working the box office. Samantha marketed Camel cigarettes to pharmacies. Chloe barely knew of the bible, Samantha had been quite religious until recently. Maybe the only thing that kept bringing them back together was loneliness.

Samantha hadn’t lived here for very long and didn’t know many people. Her only friend was Arthur, a tall, prematurely balding, outspoken gay man. He worked at a pharmacy, which is how he had met Samantha. As two obnoxiously extroverted people, they had quickly struck up a friendship based on being outlandish. Chloe had gone to college with Arthur, which is how Chloe and Samantha had met.

Chloe’s alcohol fueled birthday party had been a few months ago and Chloe, determined to make new conquests, had charmed her way into Samantha’s bed. When Chloe woke up the following morning in Staten Island, Samantha had told her to stay the whole day.

“Don’t you have work today?” Chloe asked. “Well...yeah, but. Well, I work from home mostly.” Samantha responded. “What is it you do exactly? Something with cigarettes?” Chloe pushed harder, trying figure out how someone could get away without working all day. “It’s outside sales. I drive to the stores and set up the displays. Once a month my boss comes with me and checks out what I’ve been doing. I always get really nervous, because I’m afraid I’ll get caught. I don’t go that much, and then I rush to catch up when I know a visit is coming soon.”, Samantha finally admitted. “Wow, that sounds pretty easy! So we can just do whatever we want today?” Chloe wondered out loud. “Pretty much!” said Samantha.

Their days had continued in that vein for months, although there wasn’t a purpose to them. They would bum around, smoking cigarettes and watching TV. They never had food, so when one of them got hungry enough, they would run down to the bodega under Samantha’s apartment and buy Kraft Mac and Cheese in a box. At a dollar, it was pretty affordable, but it tasted like orange styrofoam. It wasn’t as good as they had remembered. Every time Chloe bought some she felt depressed, wondering how she had ended up in a run down dump in Staten Island with a girl who she often didn’t like very much.

She yearned to get out and start over. Three years ago she had moved back to New York after a short stint in San Francisco, to be with her girlfriend at the time. The relationship hadn’t worked out, and she always worried that she’d made a mistake. She probably would have been making a zillion dollars a year at a startup if she’d just hung in a little longer. It was another depressing thought to add to the laundry list of what kept her up at night, or in this case, got her out of bed.

She knew she really shouldn’t be sleeping in. She needed to get up and start looking for a job again. She had to get out of this room, this apartment, this city. Something had to change. She sat down at her desk and pulled up her favorite Craigslist job search - “box office - SFO” on her laptop. Most of the jobs were barely better than minimum wage. They certainly weren’t good enough to move 3,000 miles for. She kept searching, hoping against hope that one day something with a living wage would come up. Samantha actually wanted to move to California as well. United in their hatred of the grey coldness of New York, they both dreamed of moving West. Like their forefathers, it seemed like a kinder, gentler world awaited, just a short cross country trip away. When Chloe had lived in San Francisco, although life hadn’t exactly been easier, it had certainly been more exciting. Everything was so new, so different, the most mundane activities were full of wonder. She had to get back there to make something of herself. “Go West, young [wo]man”, her brain practically shouted at her.

The page loaded and she quickly scanned the results, expecting the same. This time, there was a brand new listing, titled “Box Office Magic”. She clicked on it and realized at once that she had found the perfect job for her new imaginary life. A ticketing startup was looking for an Account Manager. The job listing was in the heart of downtown San Francisco, on Market Street, and she easily met the qualifications. Without even pausing for her customary coffee, she set to revising cover letter. She prepared a long sermon on the future of box office ticketing, surprising herself at her apparent passion on such a mundane topic. Finally, all her cocktail party conversation that had made people feign excuses to walk away was being put to use. She explained how her generation no longer bought tickets in person, but only online, and that in person box offices weren’t sustainable any longer. Although that seems fairly obvious now, in 2010 this was a radical idea in slow-to-change industry filled with the technologically illiterate.

Hours ticked away while Chloe wrote and re-wrote the cover letter, revised her resume, and researched the company and staff in order to further tailor her application to their needs. Finally, she was ready to send it, if nothing else, to get the pain of the dream off of her back. After spending all day on the company, she actually had her heart set on it at this point. With a whoosh from her email client, she sent it off, with a silent prayer that this would be the one to turn into something.

Finally having sent it off, she immediately started thinking about mistakes she had made. [Maybe expand on this? Why would you feel worthless?] Once she felt sufficiently worthless, she was ready to shower and go out to meet Samantha. Chloe carefully prepared her body, hoping to con Samantha into a date on her dime. At least it would take her mind off of the job. It was an arduous commute to Staten Island from Brooklyn, taking the better part of two hours, if her train was even running. Half the time it was cancelled at night for “track work”. It was already 4:00. It was already getting dark and she had a subway, ferry, and bus ride ahead of her just to get back into Samantha’s good graces. She had better get going.

Chloe left her apartment, walking briskly to give off the all-important “don’t fuck with me” vibe so important to New York City survival. She lived next to a boarding house which featuring roommates who settles disagreements with bullets and pitbulls who looked for throats to rip out, so she was always anxious to walk by quickly. Thankfully the subway was just a couple blocks away and she quickly made it there. Her MetroCard even had a few bucks on it, just enough to get Samantha’s apartment. She could probably make her drive her back to Brooklyn, if things went her way. She’d have to lay off about Samantha’s profligate use of pot to avoid conflict. It bothered Chloe, how incapable Samantha was of having any sober moments in her day.

Chloe’s train arrived - a new one. Those were always much more comfortable to ride, with their baby blue clean seats, computerized schedules and graffiti free windows. They were great to get a good view while crossing the Brooklyn Bridge. Chloe anxiously looked at her phone on the last few minutes the train was above ground, praying Samantha hadn’t sent a message to cancel. She hadn’t. She released a sigh of relief and put in her standard issue iPod headphones to listen to some Ani DiFranco. That always calmed her down. Set up in commuting mode, she sat down to relax and zone out for the rest of the ride.

About 45 minutes later, she emerged in Downtown Manhattan and began her walk to the ferry station. Judging by the crowds lingering, she had plenty of time until the next ferry. The twilight softened the lines of the bank’s skyscrapers. Combined with the Hudson River’s cooling air, the night seemed almost magical. Beginning to hope again, Chloe sat down to check her email. In case of bad news, she first pulled out a Camel crush cigarette. Samantha had demoed their special menthol bead, which turned a regular cigarette into a menthol. That way she could share a pack with Samantha even though Chloe smoked menthols and Samantha regular cigarettes.

Taking a drag of her cigarette, she pulled out her cell phone and opened her email. Her heart immediately fluttered as she realized she had a response from the startup. Holy shit. They were asking for an interview for tomorrow. She was gobsmacked. Not only had they thought enough to give her an interview, they had written her back an hour after sending her application! This was a sure sign of their interest. She knew she would nail the interview and change her life.

#writing nyc lesbian lesbianwriting