Stressed Spelled Backwards |Lesbian Story|

Chapter 9

It was Wednesday, the slowest day of the week, still too far from the weekend. I was sitting in the Deli having lunch with Elise when Karmen burst in, wild-eyed. She stomped up to our booth and sat down so loudly I was fearful for her tailbone. None of us said anything, so she stood up again and bellowed, "Well, if you must know, I got fired!"

"I'm not surprised," Elise said and went on to sip her lemonade. I tried to be empathic.

"What happened?" I asked. Celie came and placed some ice in our drink.

"Good news," she said. "If you're fired, here have some ice for the burn."

"Leave her alone!" I exploded. Karmen slumped down again, resting her head on top of her folded arms like grade-school girls do during detention. From down there, she narrated what had happened.

"This rich idiot was trying to hit on me and his girlfriend thought I was trying to steal her boyfriend by passing their table twice," she said. "Plot twist: I was trying to catch her eyes. The rich idiot thought he was the cleverest man alive and asked me to wipe the table one more time. I say it's clean, he says do it anyway, so I soak up my cloth with beer and throw it right in his face!"

"Aw, Karmen!" I groaned.

"You know what your problem is, Miss. Kaverina?" called Celie from behind the counter. "You don't know your place. You're a nobody. You should've said, 'Sure, mister, I'll wipe your table clean.'"

"And let that jerk get away with it?" Karmen challenged.

"Dummy! When he orders his drink, you ask the bartender for a special shot that sends him straight to the toilet," Celie said. "Every bartender knows this trick. No one can prove it was you. So you keep your job, and on the first of the month, when your landlady, such a nice person as she is, asks for the rent, you have it."

"Why didn't your words of wisdom come sooner?" Karmen said. "The part that bums me out is where am I going to get some cash to take Clarice on a date?"

"I can let you borrow a few bucks," said Elise generously.

Karmen's eyes squinted at her.

"What's your game, Princess Peach? Are you trying to come off as the big sister figure? Then before I know it, you're using it against me with Clarice. Well, forget it. There are plenty of inexpensive places to take a girl out."

"Sure!" I enthused. "The park, the botanical gardens, the museum, you can bond with each other through art and nature..."

Karmen made a face. "Maybe we'll just hang out in her bedroom."

Both Elise and I glared at her.

"What?" she said. "She's my girlfriend."

"On her off-days," said Elise.

"You're about to have an off-day right now, Peach!" growled Karmen. She went for Elise's throat, but I grabbed her back. They were at it again, bickering back and forth over who should get the girl and who should bow out. I thought I could get used to it.

~*~

Another week passed and I still didn't have any break. I called almost every agent in the Yellow Pages in search of one in need of a freelance model (who could double as a casserole chef), but there was no such luck.

All I'd been doing was mopping and cleaning the place as best as I could. Soon, though, my mind started to wander, and I found myself pacing around the apartment. In a blinding flash, I recognized the symptoms. It was just like Clarice and her limited culinary skills. I hated looking for a job so much that I could only do it when I absolutely forced myself, and even then, for only two or three minutes at a stretch.

For the first time, I felt sorry for Clarice, having to stand and pose for hours a day, hopping back and forth for a perfect shot. Well, at least she had a casserole to cover her lie. Or would it? How did I know I'd made a good casserole? It wasn't like I was one of the great chefs of Europe. The only person besides me who had ever eaten my cooking was, well, nobody, so you couldn't go by your own tongue. What if my casserole got her fired? She didn't show up again after that day.

I stood up and started pacing around the room again. What did I care? If she got discovered as a fraud, it would be no more than she deserved. I made a few more calls, but I was watching the clock like crazy. At five, I could bear it no more. The job search would just have to wait until I found out how I did with the casserole.

I went to Clarice's apartment based on my vague memory of where she might live, hoping to intercept her on her way home from the studio. I would have to catch her that way, or wait to find out through whichever of my roomies had a date with her tonight. I wouldn't be able to stand the hours of not knowing.

As luck might have it, I spotted the girl, across the street, down the road, climbing up the front steps of her house. I ran to catch up and got there just as she was opening her door. I reached out and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hey, how'd...?"

She pivoted like a prizefighter and elbowed me in the face. It wasn't a very hard blow, and thank God for that, because I already felt like I had seen all the stars in the universe.

"Oh my god! Azra! I'm so sorry!" She hustled me upstairs and pushed me into the living room, which was at the front of the apartment.

"I feel so bad!" she said.

"I feel the same way," I said. "How did you learn to pull a Muay Thai like that?"

"I do kickboxing three times a week," she said. "It's just that it's a big city and I had to learn to protect myself."

She got the ice bag from the fridge to help me numb the pain. I winched and I could just sense that my right eye was going to swell and blacken. I was more convinced than ever that the day I met Clarice Kingsley was the worst day of my entire life.

Clarice shook her head sadly. "This is the result of a city that's filled with sexual harassments against women!"

Note to self: never come up on Clarice from behind.

Clarice tried to make up for it by walking me back to my building.

"You don't have to do that," I said. "I'm not blind...yet."

"It's alright, I feel better knowing you're safe," she said.

"I just have to be safe from you," I said. She burst out laughing.

When we were about to cross the street, she did this unexpected thing. She held my hand, and not just holding it but also lacing our fingers together. I froze on the curb.

"Come on, Azra, the red light's coming on soon," she said, tugging me along. I prayed so hard that neither of my best friends was there when we reached the deli. Luckily, they both were out.

My black eye turned the whole building into a hospital. The Pole Dancer ran in with the perfect ointment - her best concealer for under eyes. The Lovebirds advised me to prepare myself for the excruciating pain. The Jogging Grandma was positive that I was receiving inadequate care. She brought a hard-boiled egg to me, heat, not cold, should be used to reduce swelling. Even Celie got into the act.

She sent out a bowl of chicken soup, along with a bill for $2.50. Even so, I felt like for once everyone was caring for me. I felt like an instant princess. Clarice had to get back to work in the next hour. She was in such a hurry that I almost forgot the reason for this fatal visit. I asked about my casserole. She twirled around with her anime legs and flirty skirt.

"Oh it was great!" she gave me a dazzling smile. "I got hired to shoot for Versace!"

Then she was gone.

"You're welcome," I said with a slow wave back.