“Hi neighbor, what’s up?” Denise Rockwell said, dropping in the seat next to Ruby. Denise was a graphic artist and looked every bit the part with her long brown hair, dark brown eyes, and bright clothes. Today she was wearing a bright yellow shirt and jeans held up by a white belt with so many metal loops that she would never make it through an airport metal detector. She was short and curvy, but she made up for what she lacked in size with an explosive personality and brilliant creativity in her design work. It’s why she was the most popular graphic artist in their office, and perhaps in all of east Tennessee. Denise was Ruby’s best friend and neighbor in the one and only apartment complex in Tanger Falls.
“Hi Denise,” Ruby said, brushing her long, blonde hair behind her ear. She peered at Denise with sky blue eyes over the rim of her sunglasses. “I see you’re trying to outshine the sun in your outfit today.”
Denise laughed as she sat. “And I see you’re trying to blend in,” she said, pointing at the long, brown dress hanging off Ruby’s tall, slim frame with her fork. “Why do you buy your clothes two sizes too big? Or here’s a better question: why are you sitting out here by yourself?” Denise asked. She motioned to the head table with a plastic fork. “Why aren’t you up there with the senior staff? You should be hobnobbing with the folks from Knoxville. We only see them once a year.”
Ruby laughed. “You aren’t up there hobnobbing with anybody. You’re back here, the same as me. Besides, I’m not comfortable with that crowd.”
“Not comfortable with them? You work with Simone and Millie every day.” Denise stared at Ruby. “Wait a minute. Are you still miffed about being passed over for the executive secretary position a couple of months ago?”
Ruby slumped in her chair. “No, that’s the past and there’s no use dwelling on it,” she poked at her baked beans, “Millie isn’t nice to me. She’s a bully, and Simone doesn’t stand up for me. Ever since Mr. Goodard hired Millie as the executive secretary, it feels like they’re ganging up on me.”
“Are they still giving you problems?” Denise glared at Millie Banks, who was chuckling at the head table beside Mr. Goodard. A strand of red hair fell from her loose bun, dangling next to her porcelain skin. “I could snap Millie in half. She’s a stick.” Denise chuckled. “Five minutes in the sun will probably give her skin cancer. Those redheads burn easy.”
“That’s not nice,” Ruby mumbled.
“Sorry,” Denise said. “What’s the problem? Is she still claiming you’re rude to customers and messing up work? Because that’s crap. All the customers I work with say you’re a ray of sunshine.” She took a gulp of her tea. “And why isn’t Simone sticking up for you? I mean, you two got along great until Millie was hired. Did she flip on you or what?”
“I don’t know about Simone. As for Millie, you know we didn’t get off to a good start,” Ruby said. “She’s still mad about me about messing up the paperwork for one of the clients when she first started. She reminds me of that every chance she gets.”
“Ruby, everybody makes mistakes. That could have happened to anybody. And it was what, once in how many years?”
“Eleven years,” Ruby said.
“Heck, that’s the best track record I’ve heard of.” Denise paused to stare at Millie. “You know, I’ve heard a few of the graphic artists say she’s trying to change everything. A client called me last week and said they got their pre-production package digitally, and it nearly crashed their server because the attachments she sent were too big. I had to come to the office, print it out, and hand deliver it to the client at their office in Gatlinburg. Is Millie doing that a lot?”
Ruby nodded. “All the time. I tell her that she needs to talk to Mr. Goodard about these changes, or at least with the clients, but she does what she wants. She’s always telling me I need to be more innovative and fully embrace technology.” She snorted. “She talks to me like I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know more than she does. Heck, I’ve been grinding away as their receptionist since this office opened. I was more than qualified for that job, but they brought her in from out of nowhere.” Ruby sipped her tea. “I don’t get it. Simone said she’d give me a reference. I thought the business manager’s word would have weight.”
“Did you ask Simone about it?”
“No, I can’t do that. That stuff’s confidential. She can’t talk about the hiring process. Besides, she’s so distant these days between her divorce and training Millie that we don’t talk much. When we do, it seems like she’s siding against me. I don’t understand it.”
“Ruby, quit being a doormat. She promised you a reference. I think it’s perfectly appropriate to ask if she gave it.”
“I don’t know.”
“Just ask her. I’m sure there’s something she can tell you without violating any sacred policies. Maybe it will explain why she’s been so distant lately too.” Denise looked around and spotted Simone getting a tea refill. “Come on; let’s ask her now. The sooner you get answers, the sooner you can move on.”
“Denise, no!” Ruby said, but before she knew it Denise jumped from her seat and was chatting with Simone. She saw Simone pull herself up straight and look down at Denise. Ruby thought it was silly that Simone wore high heels. She was five foot ten and towered over most of the women in town, so it’s not like she needed extra height. Denise touched Simone’s arm as she leaned in to say something else. Simone shrugged and walked over to the table.
“I need to get back,” Simone grumbled. “I told Millie--“
“Have a seat,” Denise said sternly.
Simone stared at Denise for a moment, and then sat across from Ruby. “What’s on your mind?”
Denise poked Ruby in the arm. “Go ahead, ask her.”
Ruby sighed. “I was wondering. I mean, I know Mr. Goodard hired Millie for the executive secretary position a couple of months ago.”
Simone furrowed her brows. “This isn’t about you two fighting all the time, is it? Because I told you, it’s time to overcome your differences and establish a professional relationship.”
“No, it’s not about that,” Ruby said. “I was just wondering.” She trailed off and looked around.
“What?” Simone asked, irritated.
“A while back when you were taking applications for the executive secretary position, you said I’d be an excellent candidate for the job. You said you’d give me a reference for it, too. I was just wondering; did you give Mr. Goodard that reference?”
Simone set her jaw and glared at Ruby. “I don’t recall saying any such thing.”
Ruby’s jaw dropped. “But you did! It was right after Valentine’s Day. You said Mr. Goodard wanted somebody experienced in that position and my long history with the company would make me the perfect candidate. And you did tell me to put your name down as a reference.”
“Oh that,” Simone looked around. “You misunderstood me. What I said was that I’d understand if you applied for the job and wished you luck. I never said you were guaranteed the position.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“And furthermore,” Simone said, cutting Ruby off, “I couldn’t be a reference because I’m your direct supervisor. That would be a conflict of interest.”
“No it wouldn’t,” Denise said. “It makes perfect sense. Besides, don’t people usually call the current supervisor when they’re interested in hiring someone?”
Simone continued to look away. “Perhaps.”
“Well, did Mr. Goodard call you after Ruby interviewed with him?”
Simone started to stand, but Denise reached across the table and grabbed her arm. “I asked you a question.”
Simone glared at Denise. “I wasn’t aware that graphic artists were familiar with office policies.”
“I’m familiar with more than you know. Come on, Simone. It’s a simple question. Answer it and you can go.” She let go of Simone’s arm and nodded toward the head table. “I don’t think the ‘in crowd’ has missed you yet. Answer the question, and we might let you get away before they see you consorting with the lowly staff members in the branch office.”
“Fine,” Simone said, glaring at Ruby. “The truth is that I’m not at liberty to say whether Mr. Goodard called me or what I said if he did. That’s confidential information and I’d be violating the law I answered it. So I’m completely within my rights to say it’s none of your business.” She stood. “I’m sorry you’re upset about getting passed over for the job. You were a good candidate, but Millie was a better candidate. Reality isn’t always nice and life isn’t fair. I understand if you if you decide to move someplace you feel is more appropriate for your skills. In fact, I wish you luck.” She glanced at her watch. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some people to speak to before I pick up my son.” Simone snapped.
“I thought Daniel rode the bus,” Ruby said. “Why do you need to pick him up?”
Simone glared at Ruby. “He had something after school today, okay?” She put her hands on her hips. “Is that all ladies?”
“Go on,” Denise said, waving her off. Simone stormed away from the table. “I hope she gets TMJ from clenching her jaw like that,” Denise grumbled.
“That’s not nice,” Ruby mumbled. She glared at Simone, who managed to recover from their conversation and put on a bright smile for Mr. Goodard in the thirty seconds it took her to reach the head table. “Thanks.”
“For what?” Denise asked. “That did no good. All we discovered is that Simone’s a liar.”
“So you believe what I said about her promising me a reference?”
“You’re one of the most honest people I’ve ever known. Now her,” Denise snorted. “I think all she just did was lie. She wouldn’t know the truth if it kicked her in the rear.”
Ruby snickered. “It’s good to know I’m not the only one who thinks that.”
“Oh, I think she’s an equal opportunity liar. That’s probably why her husband walked out on her. Did you hear about that? I heard he left her a note on New Year’s Day saying he resolved to correct the mistake of marrying her and start a new life. Things are never that abrupt unless something nasty happened.”
“Maybe,” Ruby mumbled. “Oh Denise, what am I going to do?”
“I don’t know, but maybe she gave us a clue.” Denise said. “You’ve been here a long time. Maybe it’s time to get out of this rut.”
Ruby threw her fork on her plate. “The opportunities to do that are limited in a small town like this one.”
“You never know what tomorrow might bring. It could be a miracle.”
Ruby snorted. “Or a disaster, like the past five years.”
The
things that some people get hung up on amazes me. Maybe I live in a
bubble, or perhaps I just don't "get it," but I don't understand why
people freak out over some of the things they do. It seems to me that
there are worse things in the world than the things they fear. I mean
really, people, there are worse things than:
Having a full time job. When
I graduated college in 1997, you were considered lowly if you didn't
work. Now, between the recession and the retirement of the baby boomers,
it seems the mindset has changed to "work is for stupid people." No,
actually, it isn't. It's for responsible, independent people that
exchange their knowledge, skills, and abilities for financial
compensation. That hasn't changed just because work isn't "cool"
anymore. Take it from somebody that's worked full time for sixteen and a
half years - I'm living proof that work doesn't kill you, and I've
built myself as an independent author on top of the full time job. Yes,
folks, plus I personally know some people that work not one but two
jobs. Talk about an OMG. Seriously, though, there are worse things than
working - like having a pile of bills and no income. We all have better
things to do than be chained to a workplace so many hours a week, but
the security and independence you get from working is worth an alarm
clock bleeting in your ear five days a week. Plus, you get some snazzy
advantages from working. You know, stupid little things like insurance,
retirement, and eligibility to take out a mortgage in your own name.
Not taking exotic vacations every three months. I've
threatened to burn my travel bags the day I retire. I'm not a fan of
travel and seeing as I'm pushing 39 years old, it doesn't look likely
that shipping me off to all parts unknown is going to make me love it
any better. In fact, a year ago I was pretty travel weary to the point
that I literally snapped from travelling cross country twice in six
months, plus taking several local trips. Now I know most people don't
agree with me, but really, isn't there a level of stress that goes with
living out of bags and navigating a place as alien as Mars to you? Sure,
it's nice to get away every now and then. But the every now and then is
what keeps it special. If you jet off every 90 days, that's called a
lifestyle, not "vacations," and you need to arrange the rest of your
life to mesh with it timewise and financially better.
Not having high end designer stuff. I'm
sure we all know some people that are really stuck on having the latest
and greatest, highest end everything. What I don't get is why people
want to spend their money on a name, because in many cases that's
exactly what you're doing. Sure, it's nice to have some high end things,
but it is possible to go overboard. In many instances nobody really
notices and if they do, it's probably not in a nice, flattering way -
i.e. you believe they think "oh wow, you're rich and I envy you" when in
fact they think "what a showy snob." Most of us have limited finances,
so why spend all of your money for show when you really can't control
what other people think anyway? Invest in who you are, not what you
have. Save up to splurge on what you like best, get what works, be
authentic to yourself, and be proud of it.
Who likes, friends, and drops them on social media. I
don't even know how people can keep up with that, but I've seen plenty
of drama over this person won't accept my friend request or that person
dropped me. How rude! Seriously, if there's one thing I've learned, it's
that people are going to be people, whether they do it in your face or
online. Change your perspective and be thankful for the people that are
still around. And if it bothers you that much, pull the plug. Computers
shut off and apps can be closed, you know. Slamming the door online may
not be as dramatic online as it is in person, but it's a whole lot
easier to do.
Gossip. OMG, what a waste of
time, energy, and relationships. As I said above, people are gonna be
people, so let them be who they are and get a hobby, for gosh sakes.
Everything that flies through your head doesn't need to fly out of your
mouth, and the unflattering truth is that most people don't really care
what you think about this or that anyway, so why waste your time? Read
an book or better yet, write one since so many people say they'd like to
do it. As a writer I can tell you that if you like stories, then
creating your own characters and worlds is more interesting than reality
about 99.9% of the time anyway.
That is true. Fiction is often more amusing than reality. And with this all being said, I think I'll go revise Obsidian now.
That's all today. Take care and have a great week.
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