Rafael

Chapter 2 - What Does A Single Person Do On A Friday Night?

No, no, and no.

Why was job hunting this hard?

The first job ad I viewed was definitely a bad omen.

"Exotic dancer needed for legitimate club. Must provide evidence of std testing," I read aloud, not believing what I was seeing.

I adjusted my reading glasses that were dangling precariously from the tip of my nose, seconds away from falling from my face to the hard, unwelcoming, spectacle-breaking floor.

I rolled my eyes at their blatant attempt at hiring a prostitute but then quickly swiped back to the ad when I saw the salary that they advertised.

Wow.

It was more than what I made at Milner.

I discreetly saved the ad, you know, just in case somebody I know wanted the job.

I glimpsed a couple of ads for commercial acting but I knew that that would be a bust because I couldn't act to save my life.

I was the world's worst liar.

Number one reason why as a teen, I rarely snuck out or did anything that would require me to hide the truth from my dear parents.

They would eventually find out when I inevitably slipped up or cracked like the useless egg that I am.

I felt like I should call my brother to ask if he knew of any good jobs available in New York.

My brother, Marcus, was attending Florida International University at the moment but he was very influential in corporate circles.

At just nineteen he had invented a new credible way to balance debit and credit entries in accounting which many companies including his university now used for most of their transactions.

He even got a write-up in the New York Times once.

'Marcus Minali: The Future of Commerce.'

To say I was proud of him would be an understatement.

The one thing that I couldn't stand about my brother was that he told our parents everything.

The sole reason he went to FIU was that our parents lived in Florida and he always wanted to be close to them.

He was a certified mama's boy.

We had no secrets that our parents didn't know so I knew that if I called him and made him know I was having trouble finding a job, he would run to them with the news.

Not spitefully but just out of habit.

My parents would then start worrying about me, even more than they usually did, and would call me every hour on the hour.

They were crazy like that.

They both work part-time because even though they went the early retirement route, they still wanted to make sure their minds weren't idle.

Vince and Linda Milani were also busybodies.

That was the only word I could think of to describe them.

They decided that their kids were grown so they were now free to do what they wanted and go wherever they pleased.

They were very obnoxious when they traveled too.

They spent a month in England last summer and came back with British accents.

They were very um...

Theatrical so I would very much appreciate them not calling me every second to check up on me in whatever accent they had picked up now.