Toxins of the Wallflower

The wallflower genus of Erysimum are sometimes thought of as quite pretty plants. Plain, but pretty. Although, the variety of plants available today makes them seem quite uninteresting or unexciting.

I quite like them. I keep bunches of them around the house. To combat the smell as much as anything- but they do the job and I get them from a friend cheaper than I could get lavender anywhere else. I press them sometimes. I also have a little indoor garden- my landlord hasn't found out yet, but I intend to keep it that way. I grow them with varying degrees of success.

However, there is another type of wallflower. Exhibit A; my roommate.

Tallulah is reasonably attractive. Not your 'oh my gosh, I have no hope of being a model with competition like that' attractive. Pleasant to look at. She'd also survive well in the era where girls were to be 'seen and not heard', because so far, after being her roommate for almost 2 years, all I know of her vocabulary is 'yes, please', 'no thank you,' and 'no, I can't watch the entire 6 seasons of 'Wipe-out!' with you this weekend,'. A rather dull personality.

But never was I expecting this.

The semester had just passed the downhill point and I was still not paying attention to the lecturer and living off student loans. Life was great. And then Mum intervened.

The classic, "stop chewing through my money, it doesn't grow on trees you know. How about you get off your bum and find a job," syndrome. I played my "I'm trying mum, but University is so much harder than I thought and I spend all my nights studying just to keep up with my course. I'm trying to manage myself better. I promise I'll do better," card.

Only to be shot down with, "If you aren't managing, then maybe I should come up there and help you out at home." Mum + campus = Kiss your social life goodbye. No one brings their mothers to campus. Ever! You just don't do it! Slamming the phone down, I weighed up my options.

Mother or get a job. I believe this is what you would call a 'do or die' situation.

Tallulah came out of her room and pointed at the half finished bag of Doritoes I had been mowing through whilst listening to mum on the phone, ranting. I nodded and she snatched them and scampered to her room.

I spent the rest of the morning on the phone looking for job vacancies. After an hour or so of next-to-no luck, I had two potential vacancies. Receptionist at a cheap, but respectable motel, or cashier at a burger joint across town. Funnily enough, I went for the former.

John from the Hotel called me back to ask me if I was free this evening for an interview.

"Absolutely. When do you want me?" I asked.

"I was wondering if I could come around 7," he said.

"You could come around? To my place?" I asked, sitting a little straighter on my chair.

"Yeah, I like to get to know how organised my employees are, both in and out of work to get an idea of commitment to cleanliness and management," John said.

Digestive biscuits surged forward from my mouth in an explosion of vanilla and spittle.

"Yeah, sure," I responded, silently cursing all of the devils I could name. He thanked me and we hung up.

Tallulah re-emerged with a troubled look on her face.

"Do you mind if my photography club could meet here in about an hour?" she asked.

I looked at the clock. 2pm.

"For how long?" I asked.

"Well, we need to edit and present, so anywhere from 3-5 hours, plus dinner. Speaking of which, could you make that killer Mac 'n' Cheese you always do?" Tallulah said.