•K A L I•
As much I didn't completely loathe my job, certain aspects of it did make me wonder why I had acted badly in school, left school with bad grades and came straight to London from a small quaint village, instead of going to university.
"You've bought your self a whole load of trouble" Deirdre would say.
"Did I get a good deal on it" I'd say in response.
That always upset Deirdre, to a certain point where she would disappear to blog about her 'delinquent child of satan', her words not mine. And based on the fact that I was only eight years of age, it's safe to say she was over reacting.
Now, Deirdre isn't my REAL mother, lord no, my real mum was killed in a factory fire when I was two. Vincent, Deirdre's husband, poor bloke, would tell me all sorts of stories about how she worked in a motorcycle factory, and that upstaging the men was the first thing she did on a regular basis. I had always preferred talking to Vinnie, he was a lot less uptight than his wife, but whenever she heard him saying such words of my dead mother she would pull me away by the hand and yell at Vinnie to 'stop poisoning her mind with such blaspheming words on the deceased', poor Vinnie would just laugh and shake his head at her.
It took me till I was about 11 to fully comprehend her way of talking. And lord forbid, if I had even looked at a motorbike she would of cursed me with holy water chanting 'Devil child Devil child' and make me wash my hands with bleach.
I pretty much did every thing in my power to screw up Deirdre, since when my mother died she got full custody of me even though I have a
fully capable dad who can look after me who lives in London, we've written to each other, video chatted, I even went to visit him on my own when Deirdre and Vinnie went on a two week cruise (and left me, I tried calling childline but they weren't having any of it) so I ran away to London, to be with Paul, that's my dad. I told Vinnie before he left for this cruise that I wouldn't be here when he got back and he whispered to me "You've got some balls on ya kid!" Which I found hysterical but Deirdre heard and started screaming at me to get away, and trust me, I was about to.
When I got to London, I told Paul about my school antics like releasing a tarantula into the teachers desk, filling the staff room with mayonnaise bombs, that was hilarious, even if I was suspended for two weeks, he didn't get angry, he just laughed, said I was just like vanity,my mum. He said that's the reason why they named me that
Kali (destruction) Persephone (murder) Rhodes.
Now children, I hope yo enjoyed that little crash course on my life, so let's get down to business. Present day.
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"Kali, babe!!!" I sighed "customer!!!"
Joe, my boss, pretty decent guy. Although, if I had to pick one thing to change, it would be the constant sleazy inappropriate flirting jokes.
"No need to yell Joe, I'm right here,"
I said dully as my feet made large slow steps into the front of the shop. I ducked beneath the counter to get some gloves just when the so called 'customer' sauntered over towards my colleague.
Joe must have obviously smelt the testosterone competition between him and said customer, because as soon as my head was out of sight, he grabbed a chunk of the loosely flowing black hair cascading past my shoulders, and started groaning, I was confused as to what was happening, until I looked up.
I had an idea, and decided to relive my old practical joke ways. I played along with Joe's sad fantasy, moving my head back and forth, whilst he was faking a state if euphoria, I tied his shoes together.
I then took a sharp jab at his nether regions and succeeded in causing joe to keel over. Quickly rising up off of the floor, I didn't even acknowledge the customer and just turned into a hallway, beckoning him to follow.
