Help Wanted

Jimmy glanced at his reflection through the steam of his coffee.  The lump under his right eye had started to shrink.  He knew that it was still going to be one hell of a bruise before it disappeared completely, but at least the lump was shrinking.  He tore his gaze from the surface of his black coffee and turned his tired eyes to the napkin holder.  His reflection was a little less distinct here but he could still see himself well enough to shift some of his bright red hair over the stitches on his forehead.
   
A man shouldn’t look like this in his mid-twenties, Jimmy thought.  He squirmed around in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, to no avail.
   
The tired tinkling of a well used bell stirred Jimmy from his thoughts and he eagerly turned toward the door of Gretchin’s Diner.  Standing in the doorway was the person Jimmy had been waiting for, his best friend Charol.  They met at Gretchin’s Diner every Thursday at six and had been doing so since they were in high school.
   
Charol’s chocolate brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail that hung down past the lumpy shoulder pads of her pinstriped business blouse and skirt, both of which had begun to fray at the edges.  Her stockings had a few runs in them, and looked as if they had been rotated regularly to spread out the damage.  The strap of her careworn purse, having snapped earlier that week, was tied in a knot in order to keep it together.
   
Despite the smile she flashed at Jimmy from across the diner, he was distinctly aware of the hollow, sunken look of her eyes.  That was the look he gave himself every morning in anticipation of facing his partners at the law firm.  He smiled back and immediately winced as a sharp pain thundered through the lump under his eye.

*  *  *
   
Charol checked her make-up in the mirror of the women’s bathroom at the Exxon across the street from Carnegie and Masterson’s, Attorneys at Law.  She had been forced to remove all of her eyeliner after the interview or risk it coloring her chin black as it slid down her face.  She reapplied her lipstick and realized that the stick would only last for one or two more applications.  Dropping the stick back in her broken purse, she gazed at the image in the mirror looking back at her.
   
“A woman in her twenties shouldn’t look this old,” she said to her reflection.  She rotated her stocking around her leg, trying to hide the new run she had gotten when she fell crossing the street.
   
Charol checked herself in the mirror one last time before pushing open the dented bathroom door and making her way down the street to Gretchin’s Diner.  It was just dark enough outside for her to see her distorted reflection in the glass of the storefront windows she was passing.  She could see that she needed to stitch up her clothes again.

Of course, if they shut off the electric then it’s bye bye sewing machine and hello needle and thread, she thought as she reached the door the Gretchin’s Diner.  She smiled a little despite how she felt; she knew that inside was Jimmy, her rock in the swirling miasma of her life. 
   
She pushed open the door and heard the familiar tinkle of the door’s bell above her.  She gave a quick look around, spotted Jimmy and flashed a smile she didn’t feel on the inside.

* *  *

Jimmy waved her over and moved his crutches aside so Charol could sit down.  Charol registered the crutches and linked them with the cast just below Jimmy’s rolled up dress slacks.
   
“My god.  Jimmy, what happened to you?” she asked. 

Charol carefully sat down, avoiding the leg that was propped on the chair next to her.  Jimmy picked at the side of his cup.
   
“An accident at work.” He said.
   
“Wow, Jimmy, looks like you took quite a spill.  Are those stitches?”
   
“Yeah,” he attempted to pull his hair lower on his forehead, “I tripped near a flight of steps and…” he thumped his hand on the table a few times.
   
“You’re lucky you only broke your leg.  People have died falling down a flight of stairs.  You need to learn to be more careful, you’ve always been sort of unsteady on your feet anyway.”
   
I need to realize you can’t reason or plead with a wooden baseball bat fueled by three long island iced teas, Jimmy thought to himself, and that Sheila won’t take ‘I’m tired’ for an answer when she isn’t feeling pretty.
   
“How’s Sheila?” Charol asked as the waitress placed a cup of coffee in front of her.
   
Jimmy hoped he recovered quickly enough from the surprise of hearing Sheila’s name before Charol had noticed.
   
“She’s fine, well, mostly,” he said, “She got turned down for the modeling job she was going after.  She was a little depressed by it, but I think she’s okay now.  She’s strong.”
   
It was Charol’s turn to hide a little flicker of shock.
   
“That’s too bad.  She’s beautiful though, she’ll have other opportunities.”
   
I can’t even find work as a secretary at a two bit attorney’s office and Princess Sheila is complaining because she couldn’t get a job as a model for a skimpy underwear ad in Victoria Secret.  They’re about to shut off my electricity.  When they do that I won’t be able to fix the clothes I’ve been wearing for the last two weeks for this job hunt from hell.  When the clothes wear out I’ll be auditioning for a job as a pole dancer at the nearest strip joint.  Maybe I’ll be able to sleep in the dressing room.
   
“Gretchin’s Diner to Charol, come in Charol,” Jimmy said, interrupting her thoughts, “don’t get that far away look with me, it’s unsettling.  How’s the job hunt going by the way?”
   
Charol plastered the fake smile all over her face again.
   
“Well, I had to turn a few of the offers down because they wouldn’t pay enough, but I just had an interview at Carnegie and Masterson’s as Masterson’s personal secretary.”
   
“Good for you, glad to see you’re standing your ground and not taking the first low paying job that comes along. How did the interview go?”

"Fantastically, I think they loved me."

Jimmy’s genuine smile brought a burning shame to Charol’s cheeks.

“How’s business at the law firm Jimmy?”

“Oh you know, busy as ever.  Everybody has somebody they want to sue for some reason that doesn’t really matter.  It’s all pretty tiring.  I’m thinking of taking some vacation time soon.”

“That’s a good idea Jimmy, I don’t mean anything by it, but you look like hell, and a little time away from work would get you all healed back up.”

Yeah if that vacation is in the middle of the pacific ocean on a cruise ship with only one ticket.  If I try to get rest at home I’ll be dodging flower vases and half empty martini shakers.

“I’m thinking a cruise of some kind, maybe to somewhere exotic.” Jimmy said after a few seconds of silence.

“Fresh air would be good for you, get away from the city life.  Hell, Gretchin’s is the only place left in this city that hearkens back to the older, easier times.  Well, that’s what all the waitresses say anyway.

“Yeah, good ol’ Gretchin’s, an island sanctuary in the raging waves of life.”

They both sat quietly drinking their coffee and staring blankly around the diner that had been their safe haven for near a decade.  The waitress placed the check on their table.  Charol rifled through her broken purse, chasing pennies and dimes around the dim corners.  Jimmy picked up the check.

“Don’t worry about it Charol, I’ve got it this time.”

A genuine smile spread across her face.

“Thanks Jimmy, though I’ll be picking up the tab next time because of this.”

Jimmy smiled and winced again as pain coursed around his face.  He paid the check and struggled to his feet.  Once the two were outside Charol offered to walk Jimmy home.

“No, no I’ll be fine, gotta get used to walking with the crutches or I won’t be going anywhere quickly.”

“Alright, well, same time next week?”

“Same time next week.”