Sunday, May 25
Within the Mess
The high-pitched buzz of a mosquito sounded by my ear. The buzz rose and fell in pitch as it flew around my head. What a miserable summer this was going to be. It was only 10 o'clock in the morning but I had already sat in the dusty, humid, second-hand shop for two precious hours. In that time I had painted my nails, read through a 1990s copy of Vanity Fair and drank 3 cups of coffee. Maybe it was the coffee that was making me restless.
The decision to work at Our Lady of Light Thrift hadn't been my own. My plans for the summer had been to work with my punk-rock band, The Deadly Vipers, but after I was caught "decorating" the girls' locker-room with black spray-paint and glitter (all harmless promotion for the band, of course), Mom and Dad decided that not only did I need to pay for the damages I had incurred, I needed to learn responsibility. So, they spoke to Father Joseph at the school who helped them cook up the plan of enlisting me to work at the school's auxiliary shop. Hang me, please!
An annoying jingle of bells sounded, alerting my attention. A woman with steel-grey hair and wire-rimmed glasses stood at the door. She was petite beyond measure and her arm-length, floor-length cotton frock made her look over-dressed for the 90 degree weather. "Good, heavens! What a mess!" she declared.
Written for The Mag