Day 3

The last bites of my blueberry pancakes isn't nearly as satisfying as the payback that was coming. A bitch, indeed.

"So, you still don't remember me?" My mouth watering from the salty butter and saccharine syrup as I considered breaking to him just how aint-shit he was. He looked up from his equally aint-shit well-done burger, searching my face for familiarity. Blank.

"Ah mean...outside uh here...nah. Wait. You go to church with my mama, over on 7th. Right? Yeah! I knew I seen you before! Woo! Why you didn't say any..." I laugh, a little too maniacal.

"No mothafucker. I don't know your bitch-ass mother from nowhere. Imma tell you where you know me from." I look around, just for good measure. "Remember Teresa?" His expression hardened with wonder, sipping tepid tap from the yellowing tumbler.

"The fuck? Who? Oh, ol girl in the mail room with the fat ass? I been tryna holla for a minute! I mean, before you, you know?"

These were the dumbasses I attracted.
--

Bugs were everywhere. I stumbled my way through the park in a sleepy haze as my body was not ready to run on Dunkin. My phone alarm blared at 8:57, a reminder that I should be where I planned on being for 9am. Early is on time, my mother reminds me as I pick up the pace.

The red and yellow balloons welcomed me to what was supposed to be a park. Right now it was piles of dirt, mulch and unassembled playground equipment. The flyer at work said "beautification projects" but I was not prepared for heavy-duty gardening and construction. The young girl at registration met my unreadiness with a tshirt and gloves.

"Yeah...we'll need to do a better job on communicating what 'beautification' means on eServe. We're giving out double hours for this project to make up for it...I apologize. But welcome! Name please?"

I pull my fro back into the raggedy elastic band on my wrist and stammer out my name. The sweat was winning the war on my minimal makeup and all the other adornments which now seemed out of place. I awkwardly wrestle my tank top off from under the company-issue tshirt, which was quite difficult under a medium tshirt.

The girl hands me my name tag and apologizes about the shirt. Something about running out and all the larges being done by 8:30. My mother's having a hearty laugh in my head.

I see many of my employees hard at work. Two of my interns eagerly chat me up to impress me. They were both extra regular but together they produced solid work. I only had room to hire one at the end of the summer and honestly, neither of them were worth it. I smiled, gave them some encouragement an reminded them about our meeting next week. I catch up with some other managers and jump right in to shoveling mulch into the space which would be a landing pit for a swing set.

A couple hours later, we move into assembling a see-saw. Rather, I put my interns on assembling a see-saw. One day they would laugh at my recounting this instance as their real interview. I liked employees who worked on their feet, who could improvise, who could figure out playground equipment without directions before lunchtime. At 94 degrees, I decide to retrieve water for them and my team. A man in the same yellow shirt as me is passing out bottles of cool, but not cold water.

"How many, miss." A declaration, rather than a question, with his back towards me.

"Five, thanks," I scroll through my emails and messages. My sister - "hey! Drinks after your volunteer day? Soooo much to tell you!" - and my bestie - "Yo." - make me chuckle. I hear 5 repetitive thuds on the table which turn my chuckle into light choking.

I never forgot his face. The snarl in his lip, the arrogance in his eyes, the scruff in his haphazard beard. Of all the places he could work, here? Fuck.

At that moment, I knew I had something for that ass. I lingered for a second, seeing if he'd remember me.

"How many, sir." I turn to the guy behind me. It was Randy, the office fuckface, for reasons. I pick up my bottles and locked eyes with him once more. Nothing, still.

Actually, it was better that way. I'd be introducing myself soon enough, and maybe a friend too.