Page 17 of The Jerk in Apartment 1B

“You moved in today?” he asks, turning back to me.

“Yeah. I don’t have much, but it was still exhausting. Anyway, it’s done now. Everything’s put away.”

It’s really not. My stuff’s just in piles on my floor. The piles are organized, but they’re still just sitting there on the floor, which is kind of depressing. I might have to forget my rule about not taking furniture from the street and snatch a dresser if I find one.

“You should’ve told me that last night,” Frank says. “I could’ve had you start tomorrow.”

“I’d rather start now. I really need the money.”

“Then let’s get you started.” He opens a cabinet and pulls out the dreaded smock. The back of it is solid red and the front is red-and-white plaid with two big pockets. It’s hideous, even worse than what the lunch ladies wore at my high school.

“Here.” Frank hands it to me. “Try it on.”

I reluctantly pull the smock over my head. It’s really wide and hangs down to just above my knees.

Frank stands back, assessing me in the smock. “Looks a little big.”

“Do you have another size?”

“Unfortunately, no. That one belonged to Jared. He was quite a bit bigger than you.”

I’m wearing a men’s smock? Ausedmen’s smock?

“Um, do you think you could order a new one? A smaller one?”

“Maybe, but I need to make sure you’re sticking around before I do. We run a tight ship here. I can’t be spending money willy-nilly.” He plants his hands on his waist and smiles. “I’m sure you can make it work. And the extra fabric will protect your clothes from all those dusty cans.” He laughs, but I don’t find it funny. I look ridiculous. Good thing I don’t know anybody around here.

As Frank searches for something in a drawer, I notice the time clock on the wall. “Shouldn’t I be clocked in?”

Frank looks up from the drawer. “Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Your card is already there. Go ahead and punch in. I need to run to my office.”

I take my card from the slot, looking over the names on the other cards. Someone named Rose is at the top. I wonder if that’s the eye-rolling cashier. That couldn’t have been about me. She doesn’t even know me.

After I punch in, I go over to the mirror behind the door and try to make the smock look a little less horrible. There are red fabric ties near the waist so I use them to cinch the smock closer to my body and secure it in place. It’s not great, but it’s better than it was before.

“Trina!” Frank calls out. “Come down to the storeroom.”

The storeroom is in the very back of the building. It’s dark and dusty, like a storeroom in a creepy horror movie. When Isaw it last night, I commented that it needed more light, but I don’t think Frank heard me.

“I’m here,” I say as I go into the storeroom. It seems brighter today. Maybe my depressed mood was making it seem darker than it actually was.

Frank appears from behind a shelf. “What do you think? I changed out some of the light bulbs.”

“It’s a lot better.”

He walks over to me and points to my smock. “Looks nice. I like what you did with it.”

“Thanks.” I laugh a little. “I went to fashion school. I can make most anything look better.”

“Fashion school, huh?” He cocks his head to the side. “So why are you workinghere?”

“I lost my job. I needed something until I find something—” I almost say ‘better’ but then stop myself, not wanting to insult Frank and his store.

“So you won’t be staying long. Good thing I didn’t order you a new smock.” He winks at me, which reminds me of my new neighbor, but when he did it, it was sexy. When Frank did it, I felt like my grandpa was winking at me.

Frank brings a rolling cart over to me. “You’ll use this to take things to the store. When you see something’s getting low, you come back here, fill up the cart, and restock the shelves.”

“Don’t you have software that tells you what needs to be stocked?”

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