Chapter 5: The Bad Girl Meets Her Coworkers

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"I would put money down on the fact that we probably have the most philosophical conversations whilst working on cars together." Jared announced.

I had to grip the front bumper of this ladies Prius so hard to stop myself from backhanding him.

"Listening to you bitch about all the pussy you haven't gotten because of this work Tino has you doing, is the farthest thing from philosophical." I reminded him.

"To smash, or not to smash?" Jared replied with. I almost gagged.

"It's almost midnight and I still need to fasten these fender pieces on. Plus I've got to wake up early to clean the white man's floorboards." I reminded him. Jared couldn't help but laugh at that.

"I think some days you forget that I'm a white man." He replied.

"It's not your skin tone that defies you." I replied.

"Keep that in mind next time you wish to generalize all white people."

Fuck. This little fucker was right.

This conversation was getting philosophical.

"That ballet academy is very diversified. I mean we live in Los Angeles for Christ sakes, Alex. We've forced diversity upon this city." Jared explained.

And he was right.

I remembered a time where a black ballerina was completely unheard of. Walking through those studios showed me that times have indeed changed. There was diversity galore.

"You're just butt hurt about working there because you used to want to be a ballerina." Jared added. I whipped my head to him and my eyes narrowed.

"Tino told you." I stated.

"Apparently you were actually really good. Why did you stop?" Jared asked.

My mind wandered back to the accident with my parents.

Jared knew all about it, but if I brought it up now, all I'd succeed in doing is bringing down the conversation. It took me years to finally get Jared to stop acting like he was walking around broken egg shells with me. I wasn't about to ruin all my hard work.

"I guess I gave up my pointe shoes, for NASCAR." I replied, shooting him a large grin. All he could do was laugh.

"Such a tomboy at heart, you are. Continue on like this and you might just end up dying alone, Alex."

"Last time I checked, dying alone meant that I wouldn't have to share food. It also meant that I could fart whenever I wanted, and finesse drinks out men at clubs until death did me and my mug collection part." I replied.

"You won't be able to finesse men when you're 80, hun." Jared countered.

"Damn... I didn't think you thought I was going to make it that far." I said honestly. Jared took a second to think about it, before eventually nodding.

"You're right. 50 at the latest. Any later, and I'll start believing there is a God."

"No I've got to make it to 60. I need one full year of that senior citizen discount. I've also got to sue a random store for a self inflicted injury so I can leave all my settlement money to my soon to be neighbor and mentor Billy who will look up to me for those last few stretches of my life as I explain to him how to be a boss ass bitch. The rest of my earnings will go towards a petition to change the girls scout cookies back to their original names. Caramel deLites will never be what Somoas once were to this world." I explained.

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