|Working For Jane (standard:drama, 8115 words)|
|Author: Bobby Zaman||Added: Nov 05 2002||Views/Reads: 1819/1180||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Any job for a meal.|
WORKING FOR JANE Bobby Zaman He was sitting in his apartment listening to the rumble of hunger wage war in his stomach and drooling over flashbacks of the Italian meal two nights ago that Kevin Cane treated him to, when Zed Parker’s eyes fell on the Reader ad that wanted potential candidates for escorting exotic dancers to bachelor parties and other occasions that involved the talents of women in thongs and birthday suits. Ask for Jane, it said. No experience necessary. What experience would be necessary for the job? A prison record? No teeth? Biceps the size of bowling balls? Zed had none of it. The closest he came to a bout with the law was being asked to leave a bar after a night of drinking and wallowing over being dumped with every patron. All his teeth were intact. He’d never been to a gym and bunked PE every chance he got as far back as memories of school years served. It did say no experience necessary. Zed wasn’t married and he hadn’t had a date in a year. He’d gotten canned a month ago from the bank teller job he’d had for a little over a year for falling asleep in the employee lunchroom after a kingly meal of Snickers and ginger ale. None short the branch president walked in and found him spread-eagled on the large conference table, snoring, a grin pasted on his unshaven face. She began yelping like a Chihuahua and went on till he stumbled out the front door, through a mass of ogling, laughing, and stupefied customers, and felt the midday sun drop on his sleepy eyes like a wrecking ball. Since then it had been bouts of depression mingled with hunger and nausea, and the occasional meal that would enter his body courtesy of Kevin or some other sympathetic friend. Rent was around corner like a viper, its forked tongue peeking like an executioner, and Mr. Chang will surely give him the boot if another check bounced. Zed’s luck was tied to the fact that Carly Chang, the twenty-year old daughter of the landlord had had a crush on Zed since the April day two years ago that he walked in to the makeshift rental office in the basement. Ever since picking up on her fancies for him, Zed kept her happy with a gift here and a smile there. She accepted the pleasantries with pleasant smiles. Some nights he felt a pang of guilt when the bright, smiling face of Carly would linger in his mind. The hopeless smile of hope. There were some dreams lodged behind those eyes. Maybe he was part of them. There never passed much in the way of a real conversation between them, save for the occasional "Don’t worry about Dad, he’s always like this at the end of the month," from her reassuring heart. "He’ll kick me out," Zed would say. Attached to a chuckle Carly’s words would fall on his ears like honey, "Dad won’t throw anyone out." Rent aside there was still the rumble in his stomach that needed to be quelled. All jobs were hindrances to the process of life, but life needed one to be sustained and progressed. That rub being there Zed dialed the number in the Reader ad. A suspicious voice Zed surmised belonged to Jane picked up and mumbled some cover name they were using for the operation. Zed thought he had the wrong number and asked if it was the right place to respond to the Reader ad. "When can you start?" Jane asked. Zed stuttered, "I – um – well – " "Are you familiar with the job?" "I – um – well –" Click here to read the rest of this story (1136 more lines)
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