TURNING DOWN THE OFFER

"So, Ellie? Are you in? I will just give my boss a call, and you can start this evening. Don't worry, I will have your back."


That is easy and tempting, but still, a big capital NO! "Thank you, Grace, but no. My attitude towards alcohol will not let me last even a minute in that place. I can't deal with drunkards," I mumble.

"Then what? You would rather have nothing to do than this?"

"I will have something to do. I believe that, Grace. Just not that," I retort.


A moment of screaming silence.

That is not even an option for me. This other shit referred to as a brothel too. I can't visualize myself serving drunkards or entertaining people by twerking my naked arse in the name of surviving. I might be stripped of everything, but not my principles.


"You know, back in high school, Ellie, I wanted so much to get close to you. But your pedigree was too high for mine. When I ran into you earlier, I didn't understand why, of all the people, you would be there, but I was glad that at least I had found a common ground to get close to you. But I was so wrong. You should be thinking so ill of me right now because of my job and what I just proposed, and that just proves how different we are. I'm sorry. I should go." And with that, she grabs her handbag and taps her feet on the floor.

Wow! I had no idea that anyone in school wanted to be friends with the profoundly gloomy, grouchy, book-warmer, Ellie Marrie Riccaford! And about me thinking ill of her?

Before she takes another step, I grasp her hand and stand up.

"Listen, Grace. It is one thing for me to refuse to work in the club, but another very different thing for me to judge you. I understand why you have to do this," I say.

"Everyone thinks we are loose women because of that job. We are worse than sex workers, according to some people, and it hurts to be so harshly judged. I would quit it like now if I could, but if I don't do this, who will pay my bills?"

"And that is the reason why you shouldn't give a fuck about what people say or think about you, Grace. Nobody is in your shoes to understand your pain, so don't let the unwarranted judgments of people get into you, because the same people will talk and mock you if you end up in the streets,"

I should be a motivational speaker, my! Then again, it is the truth. With or without anything, people will have things to say about you. Whether a devil or a saint, people will still have dirt to say about you.

She gives me a slight smile, her eyes twinkling a little. "So you don't judge me?" She asks.

I smile back, reassuring her. Who am I to judge, especially in a case like hers? She is just doing all she can to survive. "No, Grace. I have no right to do that."

She smiles, her eyes twinkling. "So, do I have a chance to be your friend in this second phase of our encounter?" She implores.

Wow! Friends? I think I do need some in this new life that I have chosen since I left my small circle behind. Besides, she and I can share a lot as we struggle to get by. A word of encouragement here and there.

Instead of answering, I pull her for a hug. I would be a heartless, selfish bitch to deny her that. I feel honored that someone wishes they could be my friend. "Of course," I mumble.

"Thank you. So, can I ask for your number so we can keep in touch? We can also keep each other company in the job hunt," she says.

I thought she said she would concentrate on the nightclub job. All the same, I take her phone, dial my number, and hand it back to her.

"That's a good idea," I say regarding her statement earlier.

This job hunt shit is so exhausting and heartbreaking. A company wouldn't be a bad idea. "Okay. I will have to get going now. I still have to get ready for the nightclub job," she explains.

"Sure. I will see you off," I offer.

I lead her out of the house and onto the main gate. We hail a cab, and once she gets in, I wave to her, and we make plans to stay in touch.

I shuffle back into the house.

I had no idea that talking to someone with whom you share a common problem could be so relieving. It was therapy for me, honestly. At least I know that I am not the only one drowning in problems. I hope we pull through. Oh, poor us! Really, life ought to simply quit fucking with us.

Speaking with Damian has been very therapeutic. He came into my life like a storm when I needed him the most. When I needed someone because I was lost and all alone, drowning in my own problems. Slowly, he has helped me regain my happiness again. I am happy today because of him. I owe all this to him alone. I honestly cannot imagine how I could have handled all this shit alone! Knowing that he cares for me deeply for those few days he has known me is bliss. I appreciate all his affection and help, but with Grace, things are different. We both have the same afflictions, so I have no doubt that we will get along well.

Speaking of Damian, it is quarter past seven on my watch. I should be on my way to his house already for our cooking lesson, and men, I didn't even call him after I was slapped with a rejection this afternoon.

Shiieet!

I am in for a hot one! I hope I don't find him in his jerk mood because I will really get it from him. I grab my car and house keys from the table and hike out. He will kill for being late and going mute on him the entire afternoon.