TEEN BOSS

Chapter 2

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"It's a long way there."

"Well I have to try."

"Wow, you truly are inspiring."

"Really?"

"No, I was just trying to be polite. Y'know with the sewer water and all...by the way..." he looked at the meter then back at me,"..it's going to be $30."

"$30!? We barely got halfway."

"Hey, it's not me. It's the meter."

I grabbed $30 from my bag and handed it to him before getting out of the taxicab (overly priced taxicab driver). Busy street again. I didn't bother with trying to get another cab - not that it would have been possible or would have helped so I did the next best most obvious thing.

I ran, curving my way past people, dodging elbows, legs and arms that came my way, avoiding street venders that dared display their products on busy sidewalks. A florist was carrying an overly large box of flowers which blocked his vision, I had to maneuver my way past him, but something tripped me, making me stumble forward, dropping my heels...in the open manhole.

"Crap," I cursed as I looked down the manhole. Who leaves an open manhole? So much for having an extra pair of shoes. "Those cost me $300." I had to go down there and get them, but I was also running late. I quickly checked the time and saw I had 15 minutes till my interview.

The shoes or the interview?...the interview.

I raced down a couple more blocks and I could see Young Inc. standing tall from the distance with sun rays reflecting off the glass. I came to a stop, hands on knees, gasping for air. Made it with 10 minutes to spare.

I made my way towards the glass door but was stopped short by a security guard in white and black uniform. "Where do you think you're going?"

"For an interview," I said as if it weren't obvious. He then examined me and I realised that I wasn't looking the part. "It's complicated." The security guard brought a finger up his nose and stepped out of the way.

The glass doors parted way for me as I entered the lobby: a large open space with a lounging area on right and a gift shop on the left, the elevators were in a corridor behind the lounge along with the stairs, from the ceiling hung hidden circular lights that brightened the cream and maroon marble tile flooring. I walked to the reception desk which was long enough to have four receptionist - all wearing white and navy blue uniform.

"Hi."

"Why hello th..." The receptionist I approached was a skinny framed black lady who quickly covered her nose at the sight...and smell of me, "..can I help you?"

"I'd like to know what floor the interview will be taking place."

"Your here for the interview? Are you sure?"

"Positive. Now if you could hurry that up, that would be great."

She quickly got to typing and told me that it was on the 50th floor . I thanked her and turned behind me to see that more people were lining up but from a huge distance. Even I started to smell myself. Uggh gross. I turned back to the receptionist with a nervous and slightly embarrassed smile. "Uhhmm, where's the bathroom?"

"The gift shop has one," she said again with fingers plucking her nose, making her sound like a chipmunk.

"Thanks."

***

I looked through the different isles of products, but I did not find it. "You don't have soap?" I asked the cashier who was plucking his nose.

"No."

"What kind of gift shop doesn't have soap?"

"Who gives soap as a gift?"

"Well no one gives toilettes as a gift," I said dropping the pack of toilettes and a bottle of perfume on the table for him to scan.

"Maybe they should." He took air conditioner and sprayed it around me.

"I'll take the packet of mints too."

"Good choice." He took my card and swiped it while I took my products and headed for the bathroom. I almost screamed when I saw the girl in the mirror. "Crap, I look like shit." My blonde hair was damp and partly frizzy, my face was pale and dry, the mascara and eye liner formed stained lines under my eyes, my skin felt sticky and gross, my clothes were a mess and I smelled like a skunk. I used the scented toilette to wipe my face, armpits, legs and arms. I applied some moisturizer and light make-up, took the shirt off, cleaned my converse and tied my hair up.

Not great. Not bad, but manageable. Note to self: don't run to an interview.

I looked at my phone and saw I had 2 minutes till my interview. I ran to the elevator and people started flooding in, but quickly got out and decided to wait for the next one. The elevator doors closed and I sniffed my armpits, quickly regretting it.

Note to self: don't lift up arms.

I got off at the 50th floor. There were office stalls everywhere. I walked over to reception, having a few stares along the way.

"Hi, I'm here for the interview."

The reception lady was different from the others in the lobby, she had a maroon suit and black silk scarf and her blonde hair was tied up in a neat bun. She looked up from the computer screen and I saw the slight boredom behind her glasses. She was probably in her early to middle thirties. Her brows furrowed as she scanned me from head to toe, "Interview?"

"Yeah."

"Name?"

"Jamie Alison."

She looked back at me with a 'you can't be serious' look. "You're 10 minutes late."

My jaw dropped. "Wait what-no. I'm on time," I took my phone out and showed her the time. "See, 10:00."

She rolled her eyes and turned the computer screen to me and showed me the time, 10:10.

"Yours could be the wrong one," I defended.

She pointed to the wall clock, 10:10.

"That could be wrong too."

She took out her phone and showed me, 10:10.

"You're surrounded by the wrong time, I'm not surprised."

"Fred."

"Yeah," a tall scrawny guy with short brown curls who was walking by on his phone, came over. His cheeks and nose was covered in freckles and his thick glasses gave his emerald eyes a magnified look. This guy looked like he could be my younger brother. "What's u.." he looked at me and paused as if in a loss for words, "..whoa."

Did I have garbage on my face again?

"What's the time on your phone Fred?"

"Oh, oh right...10:10."

She looked back at me with the 'i told you so' look.

Oh crap.