The bamboo bowl was moldy and the edible leaves inside of it looked dry, dirty and crisp. Like potato chips, Ed put them into his mouth and ignored the stale taste and faint mildew odor that came out of his nose with each swallow.
He remembered the day his father sat him in front of the computer, demanding he fill out the job search form. "Use the tab button to go to each new section, it will make it easier."
Ed tapped in his name. Ed tapped in his address. Ed tapped in his education level. Ed wondered how his father even knew you could fill out job search forms online when all he'd ever seen his father use the computer for, late at night, was porn. Ed tapped in his previous jobs, newspaper delivery, library archiver, office janitor. Ed tapped in his references. Ed thought about his father watching the gay porn. The gay porn in a folder titled 'Deleted Files', even though his mother never touched the computer.
Ed tapped in his desired starting pay. $4 million dollars per hour. Ed started laughing and couldn't stop. It wasn't a happy laugh, it was the laughter of a twenty year old man about to snap. His father heard him and walked by the computer desk and smacked Ed upside the head. And that's when Ed picked up the computer chair and beat his father with it until his father pulled the chair from him. No words were exchanged. Ed just left, as his father looked on with a bloody nose and ripped up defense wounds on his hands by his sides that blood didn't even flow from yet.
A bag of potato chips in his lap, Ed sat across the street from the small plaza and contemplated the irony of the four connected establishments. The salt and vinegar chips zinged his tongue as he read the signs above the doors, from left to right:
XXX Mike's Porn Shop XXX, Travel Brasil, Jannee's Nail Salon, Faith Assemblies of God Church
Eating the last remnants of the potato chips, Ed stood up and brushed his jacket and pants off. Heading back into the convenience store, Ed walked to the back to wash his hands in the men's room. Checking his hair and wiping his face with a large pile of paper towels, Ed wondered if he should start right to left, or left to right.
As he stood once again in front of the plaza across the street, he tapped his jacket pocket to make sure his pens were still there. Filling out job applications by hand was the only way to go, and Ed had never quite respected the technology he grew up with and hated. Absolutely hated. He had no trust for it, as most of the advances in it had only brought his world more darkness. More solitude. More emptiness and nothing. But, to feel his hands write on paper, to look at the face of the person you want to work for, to sign the back of the check, even if you were the only one in the business not to have direct deposit... these were things that connected Ed to the world. Even though his stubborness may have outwardly appeared to be a conscious move to keep himself outside of the pack, Ed was trying to feel a part of life. To feel anything, anything real, anything human, in a world that seemed to him to want everything but touch. And each time Ed reached out, when someone gave him a computer pen to fill out a form on a monitor in a secluded cubicle, Ed would request a paper format application and take out one of his ink pens. And the reaction always made him feel he was helping to keep things real.
Ed started at the right. One should always start with God, Ed thought. Even if they end up, eventually, at a porn shop.
Faith Assemblies of God had a door that was painted the colors of the rainbow, from top to bottom; purple, blue, green, yellow, orange, red. As Ed pushed the door open, a small chain of jingle bells announced his arrival. Ed looked up at the small band of metal chimers attached to the door's metal bar. The silver coating sparkled.
The smell of microwaved popcorn and spring water filled Ed's nose, and Ed wondered how water could have such a strong odor of clean. He'd never actually smelled water before this moment, had never thought it possible or even wondered about it.
The young woman behind an old, small school style desk looked up at him and nodded her head both in hello and an eager look of 'may I help you to find God?'. It was obvious Ed was not at one with God. It was in his eyes, a look of banished hope with only remnants of faith in mankind, God's creation.
"Are you hiring for anything here?" Ed asked bluntly.
"No, we are run by volunteers, and could always use help, if you can even just give an hour a week, it helps," the young woman said and handed Ed a volunteer application form. It felt nice to be handed a piece of paper, for a change, rather than be directed to a computer monitor.
"I need a job," Ed said and then added as he handed her back the application, "thank you, though, for everything."
The woman looked at him quizzically, and seemed about to say something as the rainbow door opened and closed with a gentle ding-ding-ding-ding as Ed left.
The glass-windowed door of Jannee's Nail Salon had four small stickers on it. One of them said "We accept all major credit cards". Two of them had NO SMOKING alerts on them. The other had the hours the store was opened and closed. Ed opened the door to the strong scent of nailpolish remover, acrylic, and perfume.
A woman having her nails done looked over at Ed and eyed him up and down. Her hair looked shiny and she wore no makeup, and her face was gentle and serene, like the angel's face on the poster on the wall of the Faith Assemblies of God office. Her nails were being painted pink.
The woman painting her nails had on a tight black unitard and thigh high leather boots. Her black hair was long, very long. And very dark. So dark, for a minute Ed got lost in the color of it. Then, he began to feel dizzy. The strong chemicals were playing with his mind, and he held onto the door knob for balance.
There was no way he could work under these conditions.
"Jesus fucking christ," Ed whispered and walked back out, the sound of female giggling trailing out before the door fully shut.
"No speak Portuguese?" the man behind the counter of Travel Brasil asked Ed after Ed asked for a job application.
"Nope," Ed replied, and looked at the large color photos of vacation spots he wished he could afford one day. "But I can learn quickly, if that will help me get the job."
"No hiring, sorry," The man said.
"I can learn the language in a week," Ed said and looked at the small computer cubicle to his right. The monitor had a worn pen cord dangling from it, and the screen blinked a few times, like it was about to give up.
"No hiring, sorry," The man said again, and Ed wondered if the man even understood what he was saying.
"Can I at least fill out an application? I see the form right there on the computer screen, I can just fill it out in case you change your mind," Ed asked and pointed at the computer just as it blinked one last time and then shut off, or possibly died.
"Not hiring, sorry," the man said a final time.
Ed stood in front of Mike's Porn Shop and read the warnings.
MUST BE SIXTEEN OR OLDER TO ENTER. NO EXCEPTIONS.
MUST HAVE VALID PHOTO ID AND USA CARD WITH MATCHING DATA.
NO SMOKING, NO CHEWING, NO BITING, NO FIGHTING
NO HIDDEN HANDS
NO PROBLEMS
Ed tried to see inside the store, but the entire glass fronting was covered in posters and signs announcing SALE! and XXX PORN XXX and WE HAVE BUNNY LOWE'S DVDS!
The small cement area in front of the door had a large wooden block with an ashtray on it filled with half-smoked cigars and hand rolled cigarette butts scattered in the sand that seemed to act as a weight to keep the ashtray from blowing over. Ed picked up one of the half smoked cigars and smelled the tip of it, which had a clove and cow manure smell to it, and just as Ed went to toss it back into the ashtray, the porn shop door burst open.
"ARE YOU SOME KIND OF BUM?" a man dressed in black jeans and a tight white leather shirt boomed into Ed's face.
"No," Ed replied calmly.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING GOING THROUGH THE DAMN ASHTRAY THEN? YOU'VE BEEN STANDING OUT HERE FOR FIVE MINUTES, ARE YOU HERE TO CAUSE THIS?" man said and pointed to the word PROBLEMS on the window sign.
"No. I'm here in search of a job," Ed said and the man's eyes widened and his right eyebrow went up.
"Oh, are you now?" the man said to Ed and then opened the door very wide. "Well, come on in and let's see what you have to offer." Ed noticed the man was carrying a small baton in his hand. It looked to be very old, the tassles on it were worn and frayed. As Ed walked into the shop, the man held the door for him, and then gently tapped Ed on the right buttock with the baton.
"Did you just hit me with that?" Ed asked.
"WHOOPS, SORRY!" the man exclaimed and then said in a very low voice, "My name is Mike. Most just call me Harris. You can call me Mike, for now. What brings you here for a job, what are your references and are you willing to start at fifteen dollars an hour, under the table, working the register and helping me reorganize the toy section?"
"Toy section?" Ed asked and then looked around. He'd been keeping his eyes on Mike until that moment, not trusting the baton incident to be the mistake and whoops that Mike insinuated.
"I just got in a powerfully large order of new sex toys but just haven't had time to redo the entire back room yet. Staffing has been minimal, and the place has been busier lately, most of the hours are spent on the register. Oh, hold on a minute, be right back," Mike said and rushed over to the counter as a man holding 4 dvd's tapped them impatiently.
"There's just no time to dedicate to a total overhaul and redesigning to fit the new items in, some of them are lifesize!" Mike yelled to Ed and then thanked the customer for coming and to please drop by again.
Ed sat on the couch near the door and suddenly felt something move underneath him. "What the hell..." he said quietly and then saw the head of a large python snake near his hand, the rest of the body hidden under the cushions and pillows.
"THAT'S JUST MY SNAKE! HIS NAME IS PARADE!" Mike yelled and rang up another customer. "DON'T WORRY, HE WON'T HURT YOU!"
But Ed never heard what Mike said. Not even the word "THAT'S". Ed had fainted from fear.
Posted by nft at May 24, 2004 11:06 PM