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Working For Jane (standard:drama, 8115 words)
Author: Bobby ZamanAdded: Nov 05 2002Views/Reads: 1773/1151Story 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 –" 


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