Is it okay?
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It took a lot of convincing and reasoning to get my parents to agree to let me intern somewhere else. I had to come up with a list of fifty pros and cons. I’m not kidding. Fortunately for me, I have a flair for making absolute crap sound professional. I won’t go into details. Mom said ‘blablabla’, and then I poured forth my very logical (sounding) reasons after which Dad added, ‘blablablablabla’. (He talks a lot)
Being my parents, they believe nothing in the world is better than theirs. Their house, their bed, their car, their son – everything’s the best to them. I'd willingly agree. They also think that Selene is the best “rebellious” touch to our family of posh goody-two shoes. (Selene’s words)
Anyway, father would not shut up during our car ride to the Toy Factory. He praised all of us and our amazing..whaterver all the way. So the car ride there sounded a lot like;
“Blablabla- we are the best – Blablabla- *classical music*- Blablabla- “Tony, if he doesn’t shut up I’ll stuff the car seat in his mouth" from Anaesthesia –Blablabla- Best people belong in the best places” and so on.
I’m sure you want to know more. Do you? I didn’t think so. I half-wished Anaesthesia could actually do what she had threatened to do. She was inside my letterman bag. Trac had refused to come because he thinks that going to the factory would be a waste of time. He wouldn’t say anymore after that. This morning I saw him hiding under my bed. I figured he didn’t want to come, so I let him be. My Father slowed the car down and drove through the open gates of the factory into car park.
Wallace Street looked a lot like any other industrial city’s streets. There were very little people. It's that street cars usually drove right past and there were practically no trees. Amidst the other drab red brick, and glass and concrete buildings in the street, the Toy Factory stood out because it was the only non-professional looking building in the entire city.
In my opinion, it was the most ridiculous looking building I had ever seen. The walls were made up sorely of toys. It looked as if the entire building was made up of totem poles of toys, lined up side by side. Columns of toys in all shapes and sizes stared back at me.
Looking at them, childhood fear of toys came back to me. My feet got a little heavier as I got closer to the building. This nauseous feeling of dread in me got stronger. I probably would not have gone past the sliding glass doors if my dad hadn’t given me a friendly shove from behind.
After a while, I realized that the toys on the walls hadn’t said a single word. They were just concrete moulds. Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned around to wave at dad.
“Bye Tony! Call Jesse or Mom to pick you up. Have fun!” He smiled.
“Bye, Dad.”
He sounded like he was dropping me off to a playgroup.
The woman at the information booth smiled at me as I walked in. It looked pretty normal inside, marble floor, shiny desk and an adjoined lobby leading to the lifts.
The woman leaned towards me when I walked up to the booth.
“Hello, I’m Claire. You must be Mr Author’s nephew.”
“Yes. Would you mind telling me where his office is?”
“Wait, I’ll just let him know. He said he would personally escort you.” She flashed me a rather large smile and batted her eyelids after she was done typing.
“Escort me?” I muttered, smiling back just to be polite.
After a few minutes, Claire spoke again. “So are you just out of University or something? I’m working here part time. I’m still studying at a University.” She continued smiling and started twirling her hair.
I took a step back when she leaned forward a little more. Since when did I start looking like a University student?
“Nope, not done with University yet. ” I didn’t want to embarrass her too much. Anaesthesia sniggered from inside my bag.
“Part-time job, huh? You should stick around. I heard Mr Author saying the other day that you are like his son. You could become our boss one day. That, I wouldn’t mind.” Her smile got bigger and creepier.
“Oh, I will just be here for a while though.”
Claire leaned back in her chair and took in a deep breath. Crap. Where was Uncle Ben?
“So, want to have lunch with me later?”
My bag stated shaking really hard. It was probably Anaesthesia laughing. My Uncle’s hearty laugh followed after. He walked towards us, his blue eyes twinkling.
“Claire, you’re hitting on my sixteen year old nephew.” He said. He had been standing at the lift lobby area all this time so we didn't see him.
Claire’s face took on a brilliant shade of red. “Oh, sorry.”
I smiled and followed my Uncle toward the lifts. My bag was still shaking when I went into the lift.
YOU ARE READING
Toyinfestation
Mizah"Ofcourse one believes a very frustrated six year old about a talking headless Barbie doll. All I got was an earful about how bad a brother I was and the next day I didn't get any fudge for breakfast. Because I was SUCH a bad boy, making excuses to...
