bad babysitter // l.t au

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Desperate times call for desperate measures.
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I'm penniless and I'm stuck with my parents until I'm eighteen. The joy of having a guardian until your an eligible adult is just fantastic. I love being on surveillance.

Note the sarcasm.

I hate it. I hate every damn second. I hate when they nag me to get a job. I hate when they ask for money. I hate when they say they don't have enough money to buy food. I hate it all.

But I'll have to wait until I'm eighteen to deal with this bullshit. So might as well plan ahead and begin working small jobs.

Babysitting was my number one option since I always babysat my baby brother Collin. He never quite understood the meaning of "poor" but I never quite taught him the word either so I just hoped he wouldn't catch on to it.

I wander mindlessly around the city and finally when I was about to give up my search a miracle happened. A nicely printed piece of white paper hung loosely in front of a cafe's window. It looked freshly printed and was dying for attention.

The owner of this flyer needed a babysitter. This was just my luck, I quickly dialed the number not even thinking of the consequences that might come with.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"I heard you need a babysitter and I was wondering if I could get more information on the job."

"Sure love, how about we meet over a cup of tea?"

"That would be great."

"Great. How about today at 4:30, I'll pick you up in front of the station on 88th street."

"Okay."

I hang up the call and throw my fist in the air due to my accomplishment. Finally a new job. My last babysitting job wasn't too bad either but their child grew up so they didn't quite need one anymore. I wouldn't make babysitting my permanent job but it was a good part time and if I'm lucky I run into rich parents that paid who knows how much just for an hour.

I make my way to 88th street and sit on the bench right in front of the station. I check my watch and see it was only 4:00. At least I'm early. I play around with my phone and decide to wait until he came.

He.

It had just crossed my mind that the owner of the flyer was a man. I sat up uneasy of the idea of meeting up with a man. Most people who needed babysitters were single women. Not men. For the rest of the wait I say uneasily on the bench.

I was nervous and scared that he could be a killer or something along those lines but I push those awful ideas in the back of my head and decide to think of the perks. He could be gay. He could be a kind man doing this for his wife. He could be a good person.

A loud honk causes me to turn my attention to a foreign car that was directly in front of me. The side door was open and a man of maybe his early thirties sat their wearing a very expensive suit and overall he screamed money.