THE DRY CLEANER'S MESS

CHAPTER 1

Trudging through the snow on a freezing January night was definitely not something Arielle was happy about but it was something that she had to do. Who would want to walk outside in a weather that could make blood congeal? As she continued moving, she could have sworn that she heard her bones make cracking sounds. So she kept muttering curses until she got to the glass doors of Propre et Fraîche. Rummaging through her backpack for about a minute, she muttered more curses before the key came into view. With lightening speed, she opened the door and plunged into the dark room. Arielle groped in the dark for the light switch and after a few seconds, the office lit up. 

She took off her overcoat and tossed it on a seat in the waiting area. Arielle rubbed her numb hands together like flintstones, hoping they'd warm up quickly. She hated the winter season and she hated even more her job. Having to go to her job in winter season was a step away from suicide but there was nothing she could do about it. She was in dire need of money and her stupid tattoo artist job was a literal joke. The pay from this job was just enough for her basic needs and she couldn't afford to do without a cent of it. Deep down, she really needed to get some careless money and she'd be beyond elated. 

"If only wishes were horses, even beggars would ride." She grumbled as she proceeded to the work area. The constant swooshing and humming from the machines made it hard for her ever concentrate. She hated the smell of the detergents and cleaning agents. Her asthma tendencies definitely didn't find it appealing either. The smell of hydrogen peroxide always made her think of funeral homes and mortuaries. 

Her tattoo artist job gave her backache and her dry-cleaning job gave her nasal congestion. For the twentieth time in the last hour, she weighed the pros and cons of this job. She grunted when realization dawned on her. This job was her saving grace. She got this particular job just because the owner was from France and was a sheer jingoist. Although she hardly even sounded French anymore, he was unbothered and quite excited to employ a French from France.

"Je suis ravi de travailler avec vous, oui?" He chattered happily as he shook her hand. 

"Oui, je suis tout aussi excité. Merci." Her accent was the most watered down version she'd ever heard but that didn't seem to faze Mr Raphaêl Monet. He happily gave her the job and convinced her to take the night shifts as they paid way more. She took the night shifts as he advised. 

However if she had known the night shifts were super busy and stressful, she wouldn't have taken them regardless of the pay. Clearly the people in these parts were not normal, because what sane person decides to hurl hampers of dirty clothings around town at 11pm? No sane person. That's what made her treat and talk to those customers like the lunatics they really were. Some might call it rudeness but she thought otherwise. 

Usually she cranked up the music while she worked, giving stink eye to the customers who wasted her time and eye rolls to the ones who tried to flirt, while bobbing her head to the beat and chewing on a piece of gum. However, the cold today probably froze the melody bone in her body because she suddenly craved quiet and serenity. Walking 20 minutes in the bitter cold could do that to anyone. 

A lot of customers came in through out the first half of her shift and that was no surprise. Propre et Fraîche was a popular, 24-hour laundry house.  People of all shapes, sizes, colors, income and mental conditions came bursting through the glass doors on a daily basis. She only saw the ones that came from 9pm to 5am. Propre et Fraîche was always open but today was an exception since Heather from the shift before hers had an emergency and had to close up before she could clock in for her night shift. 

So she went through her business in her usual monotone and lack of warmth. Someone once told her she'd make a terrible customer care attendant and she didn't dispute it. Pretending to be friendly when in reality she wanted to strangle the customers didn't sit well with her. Acting was a tough job and pretending was also acting, Arielle just wasn't cut out for that job.