It's 11:30AM and I have been sitting in orientation with a bunch of other new hires all morning. I am currently listening to someone talk about company policy on fire drills. He keeps referring to this as a campus and is about to show us where the lunchroom is. We can't go anywhere in the building without an escort until we get our security badges. This was supposed to be the start of my adult life, but maybe not so much.
As we are walking, I try to attach myself to a conversation with my peers. One of my peers is talking to another one about Michigan lefts: fact or fiction. Here goes.
"I think they do have them in Michigan, but they also have them in other states, too. They're just a little bit more common here," I say. "I saw one on Dorothy Road going into the Target."
"Yeah, that makes sense," says the tall guy with light brown hair. "I'm from Ohio, and I've seen one or two there, too. I guess it's like anything else, like California kings. Invented there but not exclusive to there."
"What's a California king?" asks a guy who is also tall but has dark brown hair. "I wasn't aware they were a constitutional monarchy."
"It's like an extra big king sized bed," I say.
"Actually," says the light haired guy, "they're longer but narrower. Because bedrooms in California tend to be narrower, what with real estate being so expensive."
"I had a job offer in California," says the dark haired guy. "Right in Silicon Valley. Didn't want to deal with crazy west coast city life though, too expensive and crowded."
"I like medium-ish midwestern cities like this one," I say. "Like where there's a cute harvest festival in the fall, and diners, and you don't have to worry about parking."
"Yeah," says the dark haired guy. "I'm Austin by the way."
"Rob," says Rob.
"Lauren," I reply.
I order chili and a hamburger and pay for them, then go sit down with the other new hires. It's not too crowded yet.
"So I wonder if there is some kind of calendar of cute local festivals," says Austin, who is opening up a brown bag with his lunch.
"Yeah, there's a tourism type website I found," says Rob. "101 things to do in Silverlode, Michigan. This weekend is Norwegian Fest."
"Sweet," says Austin nonchalantly. "Lederhosen and delicious food I can't pronounce. I'm there. Lauren?"
"Okay, I'm in," I say.
Lifeboat: acquired.
I exchange numbers with Austin and Rob. I like them well enough. They're not unattractive, either, but I push that thought to the back of my head. Friends are more important than boyfriends right now. If either of them even like me, that is.
After lunch, we get escorted to our actual cubicles. Several people have decorated theirs with various hangings and nerdy toys. Rubiks cubes, lego starships, that sort of thing. I get my login for my computer and start listening to video tutorials about sexual harassment. Maybe tomorrow I'll start my actual career.
I get home from work around 5:30 and put out some pork to defrost, then pull out my cookbook to figure out what to do with pork. It's not a real cookbook, just a big binder full of recipes from my dad's church that they were selling for charity last year. So instead of serious French recipes like how to make pastry puffs, it has actual dinner plans like casseroles. And a few sarcastic entries like how to make a bowl of cereal or how to cook an elephant. There's nothing with pork I can make, so I decide to just make a Chinese chicken casserole with pork instead, because pork is superior to chicken in every way.
After dinner, I watch a couple episodes of some shitty drama on Netflix. I've never really lived on my own before, and I don't know how to deal with all the quiet. There's always Snapchat, but I already did my new apartment yesterday and I have nothing else to take a picture of. I end up on 4chan in a "drink, fight, or fuck" thread.
Eventually I find a guy in Niles and a guy in Ann Arbor. I consider actually meeting up with one of them, or asking them to come here. It's a little dangerous, though. I'm not that desperate, not yet. Instead, I close the thread and text Rob, who seems like the friendlier of the two to me.
"Hey, what are you up to," I text.
Immediately I start worrying about having texted someone I just met. On the one hand, he's in the same situation I am, so it should be fine, right? The rules were always different the first week of college, the first week of high school, etc, so it's still intercalary month now, right? Maybe it isn't for him, though. He did say he's from Ohio, but maybe he meant originally, and he's already lived here for years. I just assumed he was a recent college grad like me who got marooned here. But he won't mind, right? He gave me his number, right? But what if he thinks this is a romantic type text and he only gave me his number in a friendly way to coordinate group outings like Norwegian fest?
"Not too much," he texts back about seven minutes later. "Buying end tables with my new roommate."
I relax. Everything is fine. I'll get through this one way or another.
