(3) I am what I am

“So where are you from originally,” Bonnie asked as she showed me what needed doing before opening.

“Out west, Wyoming actually.”

“You don’t look like a cowgirl,” she replied with a laugh. “More like some high fashion model with those cheekbones and as thin as you are. Like Twiggy.”

I smiled my thanks for her compliment, not sure who this Twiggy was, but added that the thin came from eating fast food and not much of it. I wasn’t looking for sympathy, just giving her the truth. She patted my arm in commiseration, telling me we’d soon remedy that.

My first day was more tiring than I’d expected. I really had worked in a coffee shop, for a short spell, but compared to waitressing that had been a cushy job. By quitting time I was dead on my feet and ready to crash even if it was only three in the afternoon. So after eating—lunch was on the house as long as I didn’t go hog wild—I gathered up my jacket and bag and headed back to the motel. The same clerk was on duty, with the same leer on his face as I walked past him to get to my room. I was half tempted to tell him to go fuck himself but I knew he’d only tell me he’d rather fuck me. That would not have been an option even if he’d been young, cute and polite.

Again, I fell asleep almost as soon as I got to my room, only this time I managed to get out of my clothes first. I woke to the same flickering lights on my wall as the previous night. I felt refreshed and restless, in need of something to eat and some fresh air. I had money from tips, enough I thought to get a cheap meal, and then hopefully, with what I’d make tomorrow, enough for another night at the motel.

And so things went for the next few days until I realized that I had a week until payday and before that two days off which meant no tips. I guess my worry showed on my face the day that sank in, because Bonnie stopped me as I was about to leave to ask what was wrong. I didn’t want to tell her but she was one persistent lady. She got it out of me and then proceeded to tell me she had a second bedroom at her place and would be more than willing to let me stay there for a nominal rent. I hesitated as I thought of the possible ramifications of sharing her place as compared to trying to convince the sleazy desk clerk at the motel to let me put off paying for my room until I got my first check. That choice was really a no-brainer and that evening I got my things and moved in.

A week later the nightmares started.