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Rated: GC · Fiction · LGBTQ+ · #2272213
Word count 1360
                   
Prompt: Indigo starts a new job.
Word count: 1306


Could anything get worse? Late bus. Thrift store tie suddenly feels two sized too small. I mean, I sat in the second interview in full lesbian drag (except the hair). They knew I wasn't straight. Yet, here I was, freaked out anyway--a lifetime of freak out.

Three shallow steps, a heavy glass door built for a bank, not Gregory, Bilman & Stink, I mean, Strink. Hey, everyone in the city says Stink -- they've got a big sign outside. Mr. Strink is a big man about town and has probably heard the joke a zillion times starting as an infant. I mean, little baby strink his diapers? Save me from an overactive imagination.

A cold blast of air seemed to follow me as I navigated the lawyer-grade carpeting choice -- gold and brown tweed. An old-fashioned letterboard stood in for a receptionist, or maybe it was the funeral-sized flower arrangement. I'd rather be the letter board. The email said 2nd floor.

The elevator blew more cold air as I tried to think of anything but impending doom. Maybe I'd take Melba on a date. Dancing? The door parted, two steps, and bam.

Blond, blue dress, female said, "Oh. You must be the lessie they hired. I'm Tina." She shoved her black painted dragon lady nails at me.

I am extra sure my hands were buried in my pockets. "Oh. Does that make you a cream puff or a Twinkie?"

I could hear the mental Google effort on her part. I'd obviously insulted her, and she had to know what.

Her hand dropped, "I'm sure. Doug's over that way." Vague sweep gesture.

"Oh," I said loudly enough to wake the dead, "It's good to meet you, Tina. Bye."

Certain things just aren't possible in my version of Gregory, Bilman & Stink. But it happened anyway. A neon pink tennis ball sailed under the fluorescent glare and smacked Tina on the head. The trebuchet joined us as Tina rubbed her head and sputtered.

Male, gym body, "Hi, I'm Doug. I'm queer in all sorts of ways that don't fit in Tina's magazine collection. Nice to meet you, Indigo. Elsewhere, Tiny, before I get ugly on you."

It was enough to get Tina out of her wounded persona and into something I didn't want to witness. "You'll regret this, Doug."

Doug led me off. "Welcome to the funny farm, Indigo. Few signatures in H.R. and you get to start saving my team's asses. Overworked, underpaid, and not enough brain cells. If someone, including Tina, asks you to get coffee, I get to fire them. Job perk. This way."

Doug was nothing like the Gregory, Bilman & Stink I knew. He was so millennial it just had to hurt. The tiny beard, the skinny suit, the curly hair, and most of all, the little rainbow pin on his lapel. I almost felt happy.

Once into the team's work area Doug crowed, "Someone order a meat mallet."

Matt said, "On it. Same day?"

"Yes-yes."

Fish, I kid you not, he introduced himself as Fish, "I've got a pixilated image of a steak going to the printer."

I stepped up, "Pink ribbon with the flowers in the lobby."

Agreement.

Tiny would have a new paperweight on her desk tomorrow morning. Not that I understood the symbolism but the message was clear.

Now for the job part. The team had managed to get files screwed up big time. I was now the gatekeeper to make sure everything new was named correctly and filed on a brand new server. The old stuff would be all sorts of cloned dumps comparing file size, word count, dates, ad nauseam. As weird as it sounds, I'm good at this stuff. Hopefully, by the time the panic was over, I'd learn enough to earn some other paycheck for the firm.

- - Later that day

High-powered lady lawyer or the Goddess' representative interrupted while tossing a pink tennis ball, "Heard a sob story from Tina that I don't believe. Why ever would she try me, I don't know."

I spoke up before anyone else, "She said I must be the new kid, only it wasn't a polite title. I said some not polite things back."

"That was the snack food. If she's not pregnant or just tossed some personal out of her life, attacking a new hire is a bad thing. Tennis balls are a poor idea, Doug. Nerf or similar. Or offer to spank her. My guess is she'll avoid you like a fresh case of Covid. Taylor finally went to the jury. Strink roasted this one good."

Doug, "Any timeline, Annabelle?"

"Best guess is tomorrow sometime."

Annabelle? That lady was not Tinkerbell, that was for sure. In another mythos, she'd be riding with the Valkyries. Cupid, leave me alone. Melba was a nice, sensible dike and didn't belong to mythology.

- - The next day
Tina. "Very funny, limpy. Very." Proof that her gay lookup table was a century out of date.

I backed around the corner and took a step to the side as I pried up the lid on my coffee. My timing was perfect. As she barreled around the corner, I positioned my cup. Second day on the job, and I douse the company homophobe in latte.

I now knew that Annabelle was the Bilman in Gregory, Bilman & Strink. I was utterly at a loss for why Tina would risk swimming that far upstream over a lesbian. Worse creatures than Tina lived in the closet, but it wasn't that.

Anyway, the inhabitants of the break room were either offering towels or advice to Tina. I was mopping up the floor -- the best defense was silence.

When Doug arrived he deadpanned, "Technicolor, even."

"The coffee was an accident. I'll be more careful and do a professional run away in the future." If only.

- - That afternoon in Human Resources

"I don't even know what a meat tenderizer looks like. I don't eat meat. You know, fish, bird, slightly more sustainable than cows, etc. I was hired for my memory and analytical mind, and I can remember word for word what was said. 35 words, in fact. Ready?"

I even provided reassurance that cream puff and Twinkie were just dessert items -- not slang for something. Of course, they were, but that was part of my guile.

"It's the heavy in a pencil skirt problem., mam. When a woman like her comes on that strong, she isn't selling Avon. Abusing me seems like a solution to her. Circling around to Ms. Bilman demonstrates just how bad it is. It's her problem. As long as she doesn't have a gun, I'm fine."

I instantly regretted that last line.

"Joke, mam. This thing is creepy. I've got a brand new job. Everyone else has been very nice. Somehow Tina found out. I'd rather do my job."

I did not fill out the complaint form. I wanted Tina to dry up and blow away. The waves I was making were already too high.

- - Afterward

Tina disappeared. Someone on my team said her personal belongings were escorted out by security. She had not returned to work.

Guilt?

Yes/no. I have a right to inhabit the planet. Unfortunately, hate grows everywhere. Homophobia is just a shade of hate along with the fear.

Yet, she lost her job because of me.

Maybe I should have corrected her slang for lesbian. Maybe I should have shaken her hand using some super-secret gay grip and revealed my pearly whites. Maybe I should have asked where she got her nails done. Maybe I should have slugged her. Maybe I need to become a Catholic and confess my sins in exchange for prayers.

Melba turned me down. She's seeing someone else.

At least I still have a job.
                   

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