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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/840727-Work-Hard-for-the-Money
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Romance/Love · #840727
Sometimes you just let a good thing pass by
          It was a cold, starless night on Main Street. An eager crowd huddled in anticipation in the shadow of the abandoned-looking building. The door boldly swung open as the digital clock on the <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=bank&v=56">bank</a> across the street proclaimed it to be precisely 11 o’clock. A look inside revealed gaudy lights flashing in <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=time&v=56">time</a> to the pulsing beat of the <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=music&v=56">music</a>. Although the exterior of the building was drab and unremarkable in the gloom, the interior was brightly decorated with exotic colors and lavish textures. A crescendo of <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=music&v=56">music</a> announced the start of the show. The bass reverberated in the floorboards and rhythmically throbbed in the pounding breasts of those present. It was soon rendered inaudible by the dissonant symphony of screaming middle aged matrons. Their mouths twisted, forming feral grins as the curtain <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=rose&v=56">rose</a>. They leapt to their feet with dollar bills in their acrylic talons. The men gyrated their way into the audience and the savage frenzy began.

         Three and a half agonizing hours later, Rick shoved his possessions and night's earnings into a beat-up duffel bag backstage. He scooped up the cowboy hat from the floor and hollowed out a niche for it next to the voluminous feather boa. Wearily, he plucked a stray feather that clung to his sweaty brown <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=hair&v=56">hair</a> and gave his glittery hands an absentminded scrub against his faded <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=jeans&v=56">jeans</a>. The glitter was only supposed to accentuate his torso but had inevitably migrated everywhere else. He shook his head as he remembered the serious face that had described to him the ways of reflective objects. According to her, glitter was an aberration in the wide realm of shiny stuff; like shimmer, only bigger and completely lawless. With a dull smile he assessed his sparkly person. It was starting to give him a headache.

         He sat down to tie his sneakers and cringed from the scratches on his <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=money&v=56">money</a> maker. Rick was the newest stripper at the TESTOSTER-DROME and hence the most battered. He glanced around discreetly and saw that his fellow co-workers were counting their earnings and examining their battle scars. The blonde across the room caught his eye and gave him a wink. He ducked his head and focused on his shoe as if the knots had to last till doomsday.

         Rick grabbed his things and got up to leave. As he walked by, he noticed a tall, well built redhead in earnest conversation with the blonde. Blondie teasingly blew him a kiss while Carrot top, his mate, was seemingly distracted.

         “You slut! How dare you!” Carrot top backhanded Blondie. Rick inched away lest he attract the man’s wrath. As the shouts escalated, he became more and more uncomfortable. The icy looks of blame that his co-workers shot him as Carrot top stormed out, leaving behind a tearful Blondie seemed to say one thing: <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=home&v=56">home</a> wrecker. Rick made a hasty retreat.

         The wind sliced through Rick's thin jacket as he walked back to his room. An arctic blast followed him into the unwelcoming lobby of the dorm, negating the little warmth that the indoors provided. The constant funk that haunted the building like a smelly ghoul, the infamous Stink, had only gotten worse while he was gone. He and the other unfortunate students in the dorm lived like Gollum in a cave.

         In an attempt to find the elevator in the gloom, Rick encountered a large, jagged piece of something that cracked against his kneecap with a resounding snap. Shivering uncontrollably, he pressed the button for the elevator. The warped doors begrudgingly slid open with their customary grating shriek. With a bone tired sigh he slumped against the wall after choosing his floor. The elevator began its unwilling climb with a shudder that brought him to a near close encounter of the nasty kind with the sticky floor. A pen was shaken loose from the shadows. The smooth tube beckoned him, rolling invitingly across the floor towards him. He thought of taking it, he always needed pens, but then the box of disposable pens on his desk flashed through his mind. They were disposable in the sense that they never lasted a week outside the box in his care. But if he lost this one then it would not matter since he didn’t purchase it. It’s your slut pen; you use it then toss it aside. The elevator stopped with a jump that made his heart skip. Or was it her laughter in his ears that startled him?

         When Rick arrived at the door of his dorm room he let out a sigh of relief. All sense of ease was short lived when, at the flip of the light switch, he encountered his roommate in full action with a lady friend. At the girl’s startled squeak and his roommate’s indignant holler, he made a quick and graceless exit out of the room. Upon reaching the end of the hall Rick stopped cold. The bastard was having <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=sex&v=56">sex</a> on his bed! Again! He turned on his heel and considered marching back and teaching that jerk a lesson. It would be educational all right; he fumed, with a little twist of Jerry Springer. A face splitting yawn interrupted his heated thoughts. He was too tired to throw chairs, maybe tomorrow. Or next week. Most likely never. He decided to head towards the <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=computer&v=56">computer</a> lab. It was open 24 hours and he could wait until the coast was clear back in the room.

         An hour later he was still in front of a <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=computer&v=56">computer</a> furiously surfing the <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=web&v=56">web</a>. The high speed connection flashed page after page of bright <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=pictures&v=56">pictures</a> and painful <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=fonts&v=56">fonts</a> to his reddened eyes. Amid the assorted e-garbage in his <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=email&v=56">email</a>, there were at least seven links to the latest pirated homemade celebrity <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=sex&v=56">sex</a> tape. There was nothing more of substance than some old emails and two unread messages all from the same person. Looking them over, he felt his heart sink like granite in the quicksand of yesteryear.

         It was the second day of classes in the spring semester of freshman year. She was sitting alone with only a book and a bottle of Dr. Pepper as company. She sipped from the bottle in quiet defiance of the <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=food&v=56">food</a> and beverage ban in the library. From <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=time&v=56">time</a> to <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=time&v=56">time</a> she would brush her thick dark <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=hair&v=56">hair</a> from her face as the rebellious curls would obstruct her vision. There was something about her that pulled on Rick's heartstrings. He found himself drifting towards her. He stood a few steps away from her and stopped. She turned around as if sensing his presence and was intercepted by an overzealous library aide. Rick looked back at her as he left the library. She smiled.

         Later that day, Rick arrived late to a class that had nothing to do with what he was planning to major in and little or no practical real world value. The professor was in the middle of describing an activity in which they would get to know each other and form their work/study groups for the semester. They were to write their vital information on sheets of paper and tape it to their backs and hence decide from there. Just as he saw a jean clad derrière with some potential, a soft voice pulled him out of his non academic musings.

         “Hi, I’m Claudia. You’ll be in my group this semester.” She said it with a quiet confidence that could pass for smugness if she wasn't anxiously wringing her hands together. Rick smiled at her in mute agreement. With a tentative touch, she roughly hauled him over to meet the rest of the group. That’s how it started.

         Claudia spoke little in the first few meetings. She limited herself to observing the others debate the topic and adding the occasional quiet comment. Rick would gently cajole her to participate, evoking many blushes and a few more words. By and by she warmed up to him, capturing him with her wit and intelligence. It was a decent friendship by any standards. He made <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=jokes&v=56">jokes</a> and she’d laugh. She would share an awe-inspiring amount of trivial knowledge that could only be acquired through years of Jeopardy apprenticeship. A shared obsession of TV sitcoms eventually made the group meetings last twice as long.

         Like a moth is drawn to a flame, Rick was drawn to sit by Claudia’s side through boring lectures. It was a heady feeling just being near her. Soon that was not enough; he had to have more. He asked and she accepted. They were both falling. Unfortunately, there was an unyielding concrete reality waiting at the end of their mutual descent instead of the cushion of illusion.

         “You’re how old?” Rick tried to remain calm but his voice raised a few octaves on its own regard.

         “What can I say, I was skipped a grade. Or two.” Claudia’s trembling lips betrayed her light tone. The shock in Rick’s eyes changed into the dismayed revulsion one reserves for finding chewing gum on the soles of their new sneakers. He shot up from the narrow bed and paused only to grip his spinning head. Although normal blood flow was reestablished, he rubbed his temples as he paced in the narrow confines of the dorm. Unable to take anymore he retreated hastily. As suddenly as it all started it had ended.

         They patched things up a week later, they had to- the final paper was due from their work/study group. It was an uneasy truce but Rick convinced himself that they were just <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=friends&v=56">friends</a>. Claudia almost believed it too. Not a <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=single&v=56">single</a> reference was made to their earlier romantic status; it was as if it had never happened. But it did.

         Rick was convinced he did the right thing. She was too young and deserved better, he thought. Lost in his thoughts he did not notice Claudia was trying to get his attention until he felt her fingers bite into his flesh with a ruthless pinch.

         “Earth welcomes you back to Her own. Lend me a pen, will you? I haven’t got a <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=single&v=56">single</a> <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=writing&v=56">writing</a> utensil on me for the final.” Claudia extended her hand expectantly. She had less luck with pens than he did.

         “You’re in luck; I have a spare…somewhere.” Rick said. After much rummaging, he produced a black Bic from the depths of his backpack. “I am never going to see this little guy again, am I?”

         “It’s your slut pen; you use it then toss it aside.” With a droll smile over her clever quip, she proceeded to doodle in the margins of her <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=notebook&v=56">notebook</a> until the professor started handing out the <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=test&v=56">test</a>.

         Claudia finished first and walked out of the classroom with the pen safely pocketed. Rick handed in his final not thirty seconds later and saw her heading down the hall towards the stairwell. He caught up with her as they were exiting the building. After exchanging pleasantries on having a nice <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=vacation&v=56">vacation</a> there was an awkward pause. They stood staring each other at close range across a huge chasm that a mere two and a half years can create. She made the leap of faith into his arms and held him tight. He stood as still as a statue and patted her heaving shoulders with leaden hands. In a distant voice, he promised Claudia that he’d write. He could feel her broken heart beat against his ribs causing his own to quicken its rhythm. He disentangled her from himself and pulled back. She walked away. Rick never saw his pen again. As a matter of fact he never saw her again either.

         It was nearly four in the morning and Rick sat in front of the <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=computer&v=56">computer</a> with his head pounding and his skin itching from the glitter. He needed to shower and get to bed before sunup. There was no use pining over what never could have been, Claudia was gone and had been gone for a little over three years. He did keep his promise at first but he knew she still had feelings for him. So he decided to cut her off, for her own good of course. The letters were spaced out by days then weeks at a <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=time&v=56">time</a>. Eventually he stopped <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=writing&v=56">writing</a> altogether.

         There were two unread messages. He recalled the first; it was the final message from Claudia before he stopped checking that particular address. It was the second that piqued his curiosity. It was only six months old and had a grim subject line- “Re: A Final Farewell.” His heart gave a painful lurch. Their relationship was left suspended in an infinite limbo so the thought of any finality was foreign and threatening. He clicked on it, breaking a thousand self inflicted oaths in the process. His eyes blurred towards the end of the letter making the final paragraph nearly illegible.

         Rick needed a shower. The itch in his skin was unbearable. He turned the faucets on full force, relishing the hot <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=water&v=56">water</a> and solitude which is a scarce commodity in the morning. The coarse loofah abraded his sensitive skin like sandpaper. The pain, however, did not deter him from scouring himself red and raw. He scraped off every one of her kisses, her caresses and the lingering sensation of her incredibly smooth skin that clung to his flesh. The <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=water&v=56">water</a> mixed with his tears washed over him in waves of regret. He could not wash the phantom feelings all away but made some moderate progress with the accursed glitter.

         When he was through, he gingerly toweled himself off; the soft terry cloth felt as silky as a burlap sack against him. As he gathered his bath things, <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=sharp&v=56">sharp</a> pin points of light caught his eye. He rushed to the sink and began to frantically rub his hands under the running <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=water&v=56">water</a>. It was as if the glitter was glued to his flesh. He started to chafe them harder until the <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=water&v=56">water</a> going down the drain became discolored with blood. The loud shriek of a rusty hinge nearly put him into cardiac arrest. The entrance of his roommate couldn’t have unsettled him more if it had been Banquo’s ghost. Rick gathered his things with his wet hands and dashed off in another graceless exit.

         Several hours later in his room on his bed, Rick surfaced from erotic dreams with the realization that some very real hanky panky had occurred on his sheets and it was not his juices that stained the coverlet. With a horrified cry, he lurched from his bed and became hopelessly tangled. After a good five minutes of fruitless struggle, reason was fully awake enough to direct him calmly out of the soiled snarl. He balled up the linens and flung them into a corner with every intention of burning them later.

         After a brief <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=raid&v=56">raid</a> of his private cache of snacky things, Rick slumped into his desk chair to analyze his finances. He counted the sweat stained bills, smoothing the crumpled edges and organizing them into neat piles. By the end of the month he would be one step closer to liberating himself from the worst of his <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=credit&v=56">credit</a> <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=card&v=56">card</a> <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=debt&v=56">debt</a>. He swept the <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=money&v=56">money</a> off the desk’s scarred surface and crammed it into a manila envelope. He buried it deep in the drawer under the box of pens- the empty box of pens. He ran out. Again. Rick thought back to the lone pen lying in the elevator. He had passed it by although he had wanted it, needed it, and now it was too late. Another would have already stumbled across the tiny treasure and claim it as his own. It’s your slut pen; you use it then toss it aside.

         Rick fumbled through the deep drawers of the rickety desk finding nothing but useless odds and ends. It’s your slut pen… He started to yank out the drawers and empty the contents onto the top of the desk. The <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=money&v=56">money</a> spilled to the floor unheeded as his movements became more spasmodic. The empty box sat smugly on the top of the pile mocking his earlier assurance of its contents. Then toss it aside. The box, along with some other debris, tumbled off the small surface. He dropped to his knees and crawled around the small room, abusing his ill used hands in his <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=search&v=56">search</a>. He found nothing but dust bunnies and some spare change but not a <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=single&v=56">single</a> one of his many Bic’s. Underneath his bed in the furthest corner he spied something. Slut pen… He looked like one of his own (slut pen) and he snatched it up triumphantly. He slid over to the nearest scrap of paper and with his shaky, blood slick hand (you use it) tried to scribble. The tip scratched across the surface leaving one or two ghostly gray lines before dying completely. It was empty, like his room, like his complacency, like his life without her. He flung the useless plastic tube (then toss it aside) against the wall where it promptly ricocheted into another obscure and dusty nook in the room.

         Rick crumpled down into the middle of the mess he had created. He hands were bleeding. Floating on top of the scarlet ribbons were bits of glitter winking back at him. He shook his head in disgust causing more of the sparkly stuff to drift down from his <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=hair&v=56">hair</a>. It will take him a good week to be rid of it all. He closed his eyes and felt the hot tears course down his cheeks in sizzling fountains. He had pushed her away afraid of the consequences, of sullying himself with her youth and innocence.

         He opened his eyes and gazed at the flat screen TV, the pricey stereo, the <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=laptop&v=56">laptop</a> with the most cutting edge technology and the green bills spilled across the floor. Those were his only solace. He slid his well worn <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=credit&v=56">credit</a> <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=card&v=56">card</a> out of his wallet as he booted up the <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=laptop&v=56">laptop</a>. The screen filled the darkening room with an artificial glow. Rick wiped his final tears away as Claudia’s lines of farewell sounded in his ears.

         Forever is an awfully long <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=time&v=56">time</a>. It is but a taste of timelessness, an impossible and inhuman scale. There exist emotions so strong as to last all <a href="http://www.ntsearch.com/search.php?q=time&v=56">time</a> but not forever. No one can wait forever.
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