Page 72 of Lovebug
“What’s your name, lady?” Wally asks, pointing at her as though he’s a jolly talk show host instead of the wackadoo currently ruining my life.
“Freida!” she says, seemingly unable to stop yelling once she’s begun.
“Well, Freida, get used to it because twenty-five dollars is all you’re gonna see if you stay committed to this madness! Hey, hey! Ho, ho! Stick with this biz, you’re gonna be po’!” he chants his refrain again.
By this point, the majority of people present have gotten to their feet. Some are yelling, a few are crying, and most of them are grabbing their belongings and joining the chant.
I make my way over to him, and whisper-hiss, “What are you doing?!” I try pulling him to the side by his undeniably beautiful—even though I want desperately to deny them—fuck-arms. He barely budges.
“As human beings, we need to be looking out for each other, yeah?” he responds. “Taking care of each other? You bleat, I bleat, yeah?”
“I believe the saying is you bleed, I bleed,” I say with no small amount of snark. “Emphasis on the D.”
“Emphasis on the D indeed.” He says this just loud enough for me to hear, then winks and continues his cheer, lifting his arms and waving them this time to rouse the room.
“Hey, hey! Ho, ho! Stick with this biz, you’re gonna be po’! Hey, hey! Ho, ho! Stick with this biz, you’re gonna be po’!”
One by one, the rest of the room rises to its feet and joins in the refrain. Mr. Gaddis, Mrs. Kim from the coffee shop, and even Dawn, the yoga splooge lady.
“Hey, hey! Ho, ho! Stick with this biz, you’re gonna be po’! Hey, hey! Ho, ho! Stick with this biz, you’re gonna be po’!”
Shoot, that’s actually really catchy. I find myself tapping my foot and singing along under my breath as, one by one, they form a line to file down the aisle directly out the door.
Within a matter of minutes, I’m left alone with Bert and Doreen, the room hollow and empty, both sets of their eyes shooting daggers into me.
Chapter Fourteen
Bert and I make our way through the halls of Quality Inn in silence.
There was silence the whole cab ride here too.
I can’t take it anymore, so I break it as we key our way into our suite.
“So, um. I guess I didn’t invite the ideal prospect tonight, huh?”
“Understatement, Mabel. I’m pretty sure The Business is over for us.”
“No! No way.”
“Mabel? We lost seventy-five percent of our downline,” he snaps. “And my mother has been branded a financial pariah.”
I’m silent for a moment with absolutely no idea what to say or how to make this okay.
“I’m so sorry,” I try. “I’ll get better. Promise.”
“Better at what?” he asks.
“People-ing? I guess? You’re great at people-ing. How do you do it?”
“I don’t know, Mabes. I just follow my instincts. My gut.”
“And it always leads you to make the best decision?”
An odd look passes across his face. He looks almost… sad? Before I can ask him about it, though, he slaps on a smile.
“Want to watch a littleL & O?” he asks, surprising me with his willingness to change subjects.
“Of course,” I say, but I feel a strange churning in my stomach. A fogginess in my brain. I suddenly feel like I want to escape my body.
