Page 35 of My Boss

Finally, a reaction. The muscleman looks at me.

“Yes, I›m supposed to pick up the wing armchair,» he replies in a booming voice. He now reminds me of Big John fromTheGreen Mile.

“Ms. Ala claims that you’re the one who delivered it last time. What courier company do you work for?”

“None,” he replies and reaches into the back pocket of his pants. He pulls out a folded piece of paper, a pen and a wad of bills. “Please sign this and leave a copy for yourself.” He hands me a folded piece of paper with a receipt on it. No name or address, just some words about confirming the handover of the chair and accepting the cash.

“Can I count the money first?”

The guy hands me the banknotes.

“I have to go now, Maria. I’ve got potatoes cooking on the stove,” Ms. Ala says.

“Sure, see you later.”

My neighbor returns home, and I put down my broom and recalculate the total. It all adds up. I put the cash in my pocket and sign the documents.

“The chair is inside. Please come in.” I let the bald man in, although I’m actually not sure if I’m doing the right thing. He really looks like he has a rap sheet somewhere. Better to keep a broomstick handy. If anything happens, I’ll kick the dude in the balls, slap him upside the head, dash out of there and call the police.

We go inside, I grab a sweatshirt from the hanger in the hallway, and put it on. It’s better not to provoke anything.

“Is this the one?” The man points to the wing armchair with evident surprise.

“Yes. Is something wrong?”

“It looks different than the last time.”

“I know—much better, right?” I answer, perhaps not very modestly, but I’m really proud of the results of my work.

“Fucking right. Did you… yourself…” He moves his hand as if painting on the wall with a brush. He searches for the right word.

“Renovate?”

The man confirms with a nod, gazing appreciatively at the chair.

“All by myself.” I smile from ear to ear.

“Girl, you have an awesome talent. If I put some money aside, I’ll come back to you with my grandfather’s dresser. It is sitting in the storeroom and deteriorating.”

Oh, I think I’m starting to like him.

“Do you have a lot of orders?” he asks.

“It varies. I’m not complaining.”

Liar!

“Then I’ll let you know when I get paid. Will you pencil me in?” he asks quite seriously.

Gosh, but I’m having a fun day today.

“Sure. Just a second, I’ll give you my number.” I tear off a piece of paper from the chair receipt. “You know now where I live, but during the week it’s hard to reach me. I have a fucked-up boss, who makes me stay after hours. Although, I’ll probably have more free time starting tomorrow.”

“Are you getting ready for a vacation?” He leans over me as I write down the number.

“No, the asshole is going to fire me.”

“I see.”

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