Talks & Walks: “Like Red on a Rose” Chapter Three, Part I
Chapter Three
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My Alcoholic Friend
As important as Piri’s first day at Lake Stop was, that night pushed it further; when she was tempted by her vagabond life.
Like many life-changing choices, it grew out of surprise and disappointment. She worked an evening shift; luckily, a slow shift. Her vagabond life forced her to masterfully read people, so she had few beginners’ problems with customers. Apart from pirate jokes and the usual, varying levels of entitlement occasionally thrown at the Front-of-House staff. Those customers never threatened her with knives or guns or worse, so handling them was like playing with a box of pups that tipped terribly.
Speaking of tips, being what customers wanted her to be would routinely lead to nice ones, but she also knew that jealousy would corrode her work relationships. Because of that, she wasted no time in getting friendly with her co-workers. Not friends; she couldn’t be everyone’s friend. Nor did she want to. The friendliness led to respect; too many people underrated that which was key to any relationship. The friendliness couldn’t be obsequious; fawning would be certain death for respect, and patience.
Piri discovered Lake Stop through amusing circumstances. After settling into her squatter life in Hegewisch, she panhandled enough money for clothes and had enough clothes to need a laundromat. After figuring out her neighbors’ schedules, she knew when to leave and return without getting noticed. She tested her theory a few times in low-risk circumstances since science is a constantly revised hypothesis. Satisfied, she hopped on a Pace bus with her sack of dirty vêtements and pocket full of quarters.
A few spin cycles later, Piri met Theda and bonded over episodes of “Maury”. They didn’t have a choice: the trash talk show was the only thing on the laundromat’s crappy TV. No matter the time, no matter the day. Never a rerun, either, which annoyed Theda because she was in an episode (as an audience member) and Piri didn’t believe her. Not that Piri would’ve missed her: Theda had Champagne tastes, with beer money.
If you’re wondering, “Theda” goes “THEE-dah”.
A problem that claimed Piri at the start of her squatter life was an unconscious desire to latch onto people. Her vagabond life taught her to trust no one, which protected her from death or worse countless times. It also gave her no one to talk to about anything that didn’t involve food, water, or shelter. She was a loner by nurture, aching for companionship. Not sex, though she’d soon find a way to deal with that baggage. Nothing would please her more during this time than having someone to talk to about everything and nothing. Making up for a lifetime of lacking. All of this to say that Theda helped her achieve a great need, at a great cost.
After waxing nonsensical enough times, Theda invited Piri to her apartment atop a store. It was a quick bus ride from her Hegewisch squat to the Calumet City end of Burnham Avenue, which was splendid. Piri stopped by one afternoon with a bag of double dark chocolate Milano cookies and chocolate hazelnut Pirouettes. If she was gonna be real friends, she was gonna start off right. Theda was very appreciative. After giving her crap about being bougie.
Essentially one room with a kitchen and a bedroom attached, Theda’s apartment wasn’t much. The kind of place you moved to in your 20s ’til better came along, and were still there in your 60s. Theda’s around Piri’s age, so that epiphany was decades away.
The last time they spoke, they got on the subject of wrestling. Mainly how Theda was a fan and Piri never saw a match. Theda, as a fan of late-’90s/early-aughts WWE, couldn’t let that stand. Which was why Piri’s introduction, starting with Stone Cold Steve Austin and The Rock’s first Wrestlemania match, went into the night. After a lifetime of bottling so many things inside, the joy of watching two guys having a slobberknocker of a match for over a half-hour and living through their violence was indescribable. When it was over, she went to the bathroom and bawled into a towel; a few of her agony debts, suddenly and in vain, struggled to be paid.
What Piri didn’t notice when she came back, and should have kept her walking to the front door, was that Theda didn’t ask her if she was ok.
To be continued…
