Maid of Curves

CHAPTER 1: Another Day, Another Nickel

NINA

'Another day another nickel' - Squidward from SpongeBob SquarePants. Such a wise saying isn't it? Well, it's become my mantra that paints the truth but also makes me laugh everyday at the same time, before heading over to my job.

I know that the reason they call it a job is because of course, you aren't supposed to like it. However, on the other hand, I don't really mind as much in what I do. Sure it isn't ideal, but honestly, it's a job in general and I am thankful for that. Not to mention the fact that I do have real good benefits and get paid a little more than minimum wage. So in all honesty, overall, no complaints.

Three months ago I moved here to the city. I came from a small town in Connecticut and so far really like it here. I was real lucky when I first arrived as I didn't have to look too much for a place to stay because I got lucky on the first one I went that was advertised as available online.

This girl and her roommate were looking for somebody who was drama-free, could pay rent on time and help with of course the utility bills and such. Right off the bat, we all three hit it off.

I am more of a timid and keep-to-myself- most-of-the-time kind of a person and although my roommates are complete opposites who love going out, having gatherings and having fun type of people, we seem to mesh well.

Mercedes is a very outgoing person who is trying to make a living while trying to work on becoming a fashion designer. She works as a maid at the same hotel as me and has been there for years and was the one who got me the job.

Then there's Lance, who is the head bartender at the bar in the hotel and also who vouched for me in helping me get my job as well. He's funny and very outgoing and brings home a different kind of a guy a few nights out of the week.

Right now he has been focusing a lot though on the gay pride parade that's coming up in a few months and that I am excited to go to because I haven't been to one in a couple of years. They are so much fun and he happens to be great friends with the guy who puts it together every year. He says it isn't in the city but outside of the city a little bit. Either way, I can't wait.

Between the both of them, I have learned a few things about my style - I don't have one. But they are trying to help.

Before coming here though, I was working at my father's shop in our town that he has been running for the past twenty-five years, ever since I was two years old and I started working there, earning money when I was fifteen.

Since day one that he opened, his business has been doing great and everybody loves him and throughout the years, tourists have come to shop at his store. He has always been a great dad. Fun and outgoing.

I have always known that both my parents loved me but, I also knew that when the time came where I turned eighteen and wanted to do something else with my life, I just knew I would never hear any one of them tell me it was okay to leave. Rather it was for college or what not because to them I already had a job for life.

All of my life, my parents have made it imperative that I make sure I have a good work ethic and do not accept handouts. I must always earn my way. And that is good, I believe. I do have a strong work ethic and am proud of that. Although at the same time, my father made sure I knew that since I was the only child, I would have to make sure I took over the business when he retired.

I'm not exactly sure yet in what I want to do in my life but I know that I don't feel like running his business for the rest of my life.

Honestly, I never cared about the small town kind of a life. I mean sure, it has its pros and cons as does everything else but where we lived in particular, personally was a nightmare for me and all I ever wanted to do was escape. To run away and send a postcard from some place else so that my parents knew where I was and that I was okay. Hence is why I couldn't wait to turn eighteen when they legally couldn't tell me what to do.

Now I am here in New York City and even though I miss them and still call to talk to my mom, I really haven't been able to find the need or want to call and speak with my father since we didn't end on good terms.

The day I walked down the stairwell to our two story cottage styled home, the few bags I had, I placed them onto the floor to give my mother and aunt a hug goodbye. My father on the other hand, he stayed at his shop in town and as the cab driver drove through town to get me to the airport, we drove past the shop where my father was at and I saw him stocking a shelf and I started to cry then and there.

Two days leading up to my decision of departure, him and I got into an argument. He accused me of abandoning him and my responsibilities and tried to scare me by assuring me I would fail because I have never lived in the city and that the chances of me making anything of myself there are very slim.

Meanwhile I fired right back at him and words were exchanged that I know at some point we will regret saying to one another, and I told him he was jealous because I had more courage and confidence in myself than he ever did and didn't want to be stuck here for the rest of my life living out HIS dream instead of mine.

To this day now, he refuses to talk to me so I just contact my mother and we talk and she talks very little about my dad because she doesn't want to get upset or have me get upset neither.

Do I feel guilty leaving? Especially with the way I left things with my father? Yes. But I had to leave. Neither one of them understood what it was like for me. The amount of bullying I had to endure without them having any knowledge.

Now of course, there are bullies everywhere, but I knew I needed a new start. I needed to go find myself, I guess, in a way.

Sure it took me up until I was twenty three years old but my father wasn't really paying all that much to me anyways so it took a little longer to get enough saved up to leave.

"Girl if you plan on catching a taxi with us, your ass better hurry!" I hear Mercedes call out to me from the living room.

We live in a nice decent three bedroom loft apartment and when you talk downstairs in a normal time, you can hear real good, so when she calls upstairs like she does from there, I swear, I think the whole building can hear her. So, I better not keep them waiting.

Next chapter will be posted soon! :)

Okay, maybe not the best first chapter but I hope you all still give it a chance! :):):) Thanks again and love you all for being great to me!!! :):):) HUUUUUUUGE Hugs!!!!!😁😍💜💜💜💜💜😎