Closing Time

Another short story :)


Dear Miss Shuester,
We are pleased to inform you that Harold Miles Publishing Company has received a copy of your novel, Abby Tox. Due to the lack of originality and high volume of submissions we receive, we are unable to publish your works. With a little more practice and better structured sentences, we know you’ll go far in life. Good luck and thank you for inquiring!
Best Regards,
The Staff from Harold Miles Publishing Company

Iris sits back on her chair, tossing back a bottle of Imperial Barrel Aged Gin while crumpling up the newest rejection letter. Her jet black hair is blowing in the air as the mini heater goes its maximum speed on her desk.
“Now let’s see what we got here,” she reads the computer screen aloud, skimming through the craigslist ads in the apartment section. “Not a bad downgrade.” She clicks on the pipsqueak studio. “No pets allowed?” she huffs, looking down at her grey kitten, Stella. “Forget it.” Iris exits the computer screen, taking another swig of gin.
She turns on the television. The news always cheered her up, the way it talked about topics like future earthquakes, the Ferguson uproar, Kim Kardashian’s new stilettos, or any other ridiculous thing a worker could pull out of their ass. After taking countless journalism courses, Iris knew the news was keen on selling sex, fear and bull shit to the audience.
“Bastards.” She turns off the television after briefly seeing a crowd put up some strike.
A walk is in favor for Iris now, since the night is cold and being rejected only makes her self-esteem slowly dissolve. She puts on her favorite old blue sweater and winter boots. With a slam of the door, Iris departs her apartment. There’s already text messages flowing from her boyfriend, aunt, mother, sister, and grandpa. She hasn’t touched her phone in three days due to her latest edits of Abby Tox. The novel was about a British woman going to college in Alaska, struggling with debt and getting by in life. The catch in this story though is her classmate crush impregnates her with an unborn alien baby who will eventually take over the world. Original? No. Amusing? Yes.
“Stupid,” Iris mutters, her face scrunching up as she pushes through the snow.
She knew her story could have been better. She’d been working on it for five years though with countless revisions. Her bright green eyes become worn from deprived sleep as she walks through the eye-watering cold. It was surprising how much snow had accumulated this year in a state where it rained more than ever. The phone begins to ring in her pocket, loudly and abruptly. Iris hates the phone and pretty much anything having to do with technology. She only ever used her laptop for writing purposes. No internet at all by choice and of course the news, for laughing matters.
“Yeah?”
“Iris! How are you? Haven’t heard from you in a while!”
“I’ve been busy, Mom. I’m fine, just walking to 7/11.”
“To buy more smokes?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not seventeen anymore. I’ll do whatever I want; I’m an adult.”
“Barely twenty-four. I worry about you. I love and miss you, you know.”
“Please don’t worry.”
“How’s the job hunt going?”
“Same. No calls. Interviews leading to nothing. The usual.”
“You still writing?”
“Yes.”
“I wish you’d focus more on finding a career.”
“It’s not my fault the economy sucks. Unless you know of someone who will hire an English major, Journalism minor? Please hook me up. Please.”
“I’m sorry you’re having a rough time getting by but it’s that damn writing holding you back! You and I both know it’s a dead end dream. It’s like wanting to be an actress or singer. You’ve gotta know someone or get lucky.”
“Thanks for the support, Mom.”
“I just want to help. You’ve had this dream since you were little and it pains me to see you fail. It’s just such a cruel world out there, sweetie. I want you to be happy and succeed in life, not hold on to a dream that’s almost impossible to achieve.”
“Whatever you say, Mom. Maybe I should take out another forty grand in loans and be a lawyer, like Dad. Seems to be the only rational thing to do at this point in my life.”
“Honey, you only graduated college a few years ago. You’ll get something in your field soon. Just have to focus and give writing a rest for a while.”
Iris swings open the door of 7/11, causing an annoying “ding dong” entrance sound. Her eyes shoot immediately toward the front counter. Nothing else can distract her at this point in time, no matter how big the cookie or how tempting a delicious bottle of tea sounded right now. Her thirst quenched for something much more appetizing and…dry.
“I’ll get my usual, Muhammad.” Iris pays the clerk in cash and receives her fresh pack of smokes.
“Should we come over and visit?”
“Not right now. I don’t want to trouble you guys. It’s such a hassle flying from Michigan to Oregon. I’ll be fine.” She takes a puff of the fresh cigarette, closing her eyes as the cold sinks inside her paper-thin eyelids.
“Okay. I love you. Please quit smoking and call me soon.”
“I love you too. Bye.”
“Be sure to-”
Iris hangs up, heading towards her apartment. The snow is so cold, she feels it sink through her cheap fake Ugg boots. Her face scrunches up again as the second puff makes her feel better and worse at the same time.
“God Damnit,” she grunts, self-reflecting on the newest rejection letter and overall accomplishment of her works throughout the years. Winning Best Story from a local writer’s group or Best Writer in high school didn’t count for shit.
Why was Abby Tox the protagonist of her novel? Why another alien story? Why did the main character have to be British? After getting so many rejection letters throughout the years, they started to look blurry to Iris each time she read one. It’d always been the same thing, different wording. The last rejection letter was from a company much smaller than ones she’d mailed to in the past, but it didn’t make it any easier. It was the 50th rejection letter to this date. She thought the big fifty would somehow be a sign that this could be her shot. An opportunity for hope. After revising hundreds of times and having her classmates at PSU edit her story throughout the years, something had to give. It couldn’t always be like this. Not on her watch.
“Darin?” Iris looks as if she’s a deer caught in headlights. “What are you doing here?” She puts her cigarette out immediately.
“Well, I haven’t heard from my girlfriend in three days, ya know. So…yeah. Just checking on you and what not.” He shuffles his Cole Haan shiny wing-tipped shoes through the snow. His dirty blonde hair is slightly messy.
“I’m so sorry, I should have-”
“Don’t worry. I figured you were hibernating with your writing, like you always do.”
“Yeah. Right.” She shakes her head, unlocking the door.
“If it’s a bad time, I could always leave. I understand you-”
Iris’s lips cuts his sentence off. Darin’s kisses always felt so warm and soft every time, she couldn’t pass the opportunity up. The day they first kissed, Iris knew he wasn’t like her one night stands or short term boyfriends. She jumps into his arms, wrapping her legs around him as he carefully holds her up, shutting the door behind them.
* * *
“Morning, babe.” Iris climbs on top of Darin, kissing his lips lightly to wake him up. “I made you breakfast.” She nuzzles her nose with his.
Darin slowly opens his chocolate brown eyes, groaning from the early wake up call. “Mmm, five more minutes, babe.” He rolls over, grabbing the covers to warm up his naked body. It had been cold throughout the night and Iris’s heater was broken.
Iris sips coffee in her purple robe, rolling her eyes at Darin’s laziness. “You have work in an hour.” She shakes him.
“Call in for me.” He sits up, pulling Iris back into bed with him.
“Um, coffee!” She saves the cup from spilling and places it on the end table.
“Sorry.”
“You have an important meeting today, remember?” Iris shows him his written down notes and prepared speech.
“Shit!” He jolts out of bed, running toward the shower. Not even five minutes later, he rushes out, putting on the same suit as yesterday. “Can I borrow your tooth brush and deodorant, babe?” He fixes his hair in the mirror, frantically looking for a brush.
Iris chuckles. “We’ve been together two years and you ask me that?”
“Sorry, I’m tired.”
“Second drawer. I need to shower for my job too.”
“At Starbucks?”
“No, a law firm,” Iris retorts back. Her face scrunches up at the thought of work today.
“Hey now. Chin up.”
Darin was a lot like her father but that wasn’t why she dated him. Her mom had always told her to date wealthy and mature men, not the bad boys. It took her twenty-one-years to leave the bad boy stage, but it was worth it. She had a feeling Darin was long-term commitment material. They had met in college when he was a senior majoring in accounting, so this was a good sign. He was tall and cute enough in the face. Iris couldn’t lose him, but sometimes she felt writing took ahold of her love life.
“Babe, I know you’re still bent up about the rejection letter. You’ll get a writing job soon, I’m sure. Just be patient.”
“You say it like it’s so easy. I have a degree too, ya know. I just kinda got shit outta luck. It’s not like I’m not trying for regular jobs.” Iris squeezes his waist from behind as he brushes his teeth frantically.
He smothers lady’s deodorant under his arms and grabs the toast on the table, leaving the eggs behind. “I gotta run, babe. We’ll talk later. Love you. Make a lot of tips today!” He gives her a peck on the cheek and leaves immediately.
Iris feeds Stella and sighs, heading into the bathroom. She strips off her clothes. There’s half a bottle of gin left from last night on the bathroom counter. She decides to take it into the shower with her, figuring it’d be best not to waste since it was accidentally left open. She swigs it with a sour face, setting it down on the bathtub as she washes herself. There’s no way she can go to work sober today. It was fifty rejection letters too late to act normal anymore.
* * *
“Ahem.”
Iris blinks while looking out the window, ignoring the person’s cleared throat.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Excuse me, Ma’am? Can you hear me?”
The question is clearly out in the open. Yes, she hears the customer but does she want to? Iris isn’t really there mentally. Only physically by force, in her apron and dirty work clothes she’s already worn three times in a row. There are other things on her mind by a far minute. All she can think about is how her life got so fucked up. How she doesn’t deserve her devoted boyfriend, caring but condescending parents, cute little kitten, or anything else in life. She’d never live up to her own expectations with writing so what was the point of living anymore or functioning properly? All she did was drink and smoke her sorrows away. A big drunk. She was a worthless piece of shit.
“Ma’am?” The snappy tone finally rings Iris’s ears. She pulls her head away from the window and makes eye contact with the pissed off customer.
“Yes?” Iris chokes out.
“Where’s my damn coffee? I’ve been waiting ten minutes! You said you were going to brew me a new pot,” the flustered businessman says.
Her red blotchy eyes stare into the stranger’s eyes, trying to be coherent. “I’m so sorry. I will get on…to that.” Iris looks out the window again.
“Ma’am?”
“Yep, yep.” She finally turns around to look for a coffee filter. The cupboard is unorganized with coffee grinds and droplets of old milk everywhere. All of the filters are out so she decides to look in the back room.
“Where do you think you’re going? I’m running late to a meeting because of you!”
Iris turns around, partly stumbling, giving an attempted apologetic look. “I’m s-s-so sorry. We’re out of filters so I need to go get some in the back. It will be just one moment.” She almost trips over her own feet.
“The hell with another moment! I want my refund!” he barks like a mad bulldog. The unsettling man drops his briefcase at the counter and crosses his arms.
“Excuse me, is there a problem?” Katie, Iris’s twenty-six-year-old criminal justice degree manager steps toward the front of the counter in her black apron, determined to fix the problem.
“Yeah. Your damn barista has been standing around. She didn’t even brew my coffee!”
“I’m so sorry sir, it will not happen again. Here is a free drink on us.” Katie pulls out a coupon from her apron and places it in the man’s strong hands. She immediately refunds him after that. Two whole dollars he paid for.
“In my office, now.” She barks at Iris in public with a finger pointing toward the back room. The middle-aged business man leaves with a free drink card and no coffee. He is mumbling to himself on the way out about running late.
“Yes, ma’am.” Iris stumbles as she follows Katie to her small office.
“Mind telling me what’s going on?” She sneers and locks eyes with the wobbly Iris.
“I’m fine, Katie.” Iris’s mouth fills with saliva as she tries to fill out each word to say to her boss.
“What’s the matter with you? Sit down.”
“I-” Iris stumbles again after attempting to sit on the cushioned office chair.
“Oh my God,” her manager gasps, watching Iris’s puke flow directly on her desk.
* * *
The wind kicks in as Iris fights the cold through the short-distanced walk home. She’s carrying everything from her locker at Starbucks. Darin is waiting at the entrance of her apartment, holding his head heavily in his hands as he sits against the front door.
“Darin?” Iris’s drunkenness is slowly fading, but not fast enough. “A-a-aren’t you supposed to be at work?” She has a cigarette in her hand as her fingers shiver in the cold.
“I’m on a lunch. What’s the matter with your eyes? They’re red.”
“Nothing. Just sick.” She looks down at the ground, trying to finish the halfway-smoked cigarette.
“Put that out. You know how I feel about smoking, Iris. Thought you quit a few months ago.” Darin grabs her cigarette and throws it to the ground, blending it in with his shoe.
“I can do what I want!” Her mouth fills with saliva again as she tries to fish for the hidden keys in her messy purse.
“Are you drunk?” Darin studies her eyes.
“I got fired.”
“Why?”
“Katie’s a cunt.”
“Since when do you use the word ‘cunt’? It’s such a vile word.” Darin slams the door behind them after Iris finally finds the keys to her apartment. Her arms practically explode from the overflow of stuff.
“Since now, God Damnit!”
“Iris, I know it’s a bad time to do this, but I think we should break up.” He looks down at the floor, focusing his eyes on Stella.
She chuckles after staring him down for a moment. “Yeah, go fuck yourself, you condescending, selfish, greedy, spoiled, messed up, materialistic asshole,” she slurs.
“Iris, calm down.”
“No!” She throws everything on the ground. “Nothing ever goes good in my life! All I want is to be somebody…anyone and what do I get in return? Shitty job offers, unsupportive parents and a shitty apartment I can’t afford! When is it my turn? My big break? I did what I was told! I got a damn college degree and what’s the outcome? No career offer in my field. Not even close. And what do you get?” Iris glares into his deceiving eyes. “A high class job with your own little office and a starting sixty fucking grand a year. I can’t help but feel so belittled beside you.”
“Iris, I’m sorry you don’t have a job anym-”
“Shut up, Darin!” Iris grabs a plate and throws it against the wall. It shatters into tiny pieces. “I know you judge my dreams! I’m sorry I fucked up in college! I’m sorry I’m not like other girls. I’m sorry I made you wait six months to sleep with me. I’m sorry I’m not as pretty as your ex-girlfriends. I’m sorry I’m so messed up. I’m sorry I stutter. I’m sorry I smoke! I’m sorry I’m an alcoholic! I’m sorry I’m a writer, just please don’t leave me!” She drops to the ground. Her eyes are so smothered in tears, she can hardly breathe. “I have nobody else,” she sobs. “Please, p-p-please don’t leave me.”
“Oh, come on, you have Stella. Come here, girl.” Darin picks up her clueless grey kitten, petting her gently. “So soft and lonely. Now that you don’t have a job, you two can be best friends! Need a cup of water? You seem really drained out right now.” He sets Stella down and she runs in the bedroom immediately. A smirk emerges Darin’s mouth in an almost subtle way.
“That’s not the same and you know it!” Iris bawls again, choking on her tears, still in shock from the overall turn of events. A month ago, they were talking about going to Brazil together. The thought made her face flush up. Plans were going to be different now.
“I’ve tried to make this work, Iris. I can’t stand your little ‘writer cleanses’ any longer.”
“You never expressed hating it!” She hugs him as tightly as possible. “Baby, I’m sorry!”
“Please get off me.”
“I love you though. I’m sorry! I’ll change, I swear!” Iris’s nose begins to stuff up from all the excessive tears that stream down her burning face.
“I think you love the idea of me, Iris.” Darin begins to head towards the door.
“Don’t go, please! I thought we were heading in a good direction. You said you wanted kids someday after marrying me in Paris.”
Darin begins to chuckle a little bit. “Oh dear.” He then lets out a loud snicker.
“Why the hell are you laughing?”
“Because you’re being dramatic. Besides, Darling, don’t you think if I loved you enough, I’d invite you to move into my three bedroom condo? Surely I wouldn’t want you to suffer like you are now in this overpriced get up you have. As far as Paris goes, that was just a lie to get your low sex drive up. Had to bribe you with something. I’m a guy, what can I say?” He laughs again.
“I gave you two years of my life! What kind of sick person are you? Two whole years and you decide to tell me this now? I gave you two whole years, two whole years, you heartless bastard!”
“And it was fun while it lasted, baby.”
“Why are we so wrong together?” Iris whispers.
“Because you’re chasing something a million miles away and I’m living in something a few miles away. I have what I need right now and you don’t. Why would I want to raise kids with a woman who is so delusional? You made a poor choice in your degree and have a very impossible far-fetched goal in life. Half the guys in my office claim to be ‘writers.’ How many others do you think are out there? Let’s be realistic and not play pretend anymore; your book sucks anyways. You are not special. It’s time to grow up, Iris. I wish you well and hope you can find a man who’ll support you. I certainly can’t. I also can’t stand to cheat again. I already feel guilty after doing it a year.”
His face suddenly turns beat red from Iris’s wobbly fist. Her insides feel jittery after punching someone for the first time. She kicks him square in the balls next, followed by slapping his face as hard as her body could take.
“I hate you!” she finally shrieks.
“Iris…”
“Darin!” She throws another swing but he catches her fist, squeezing it. His hand is twice the size of hers. Darin begins to bend her hands backwards until she screams at the top of her lungs in pain.
“Now listen to me and value every word I say.” Darin slams her against the wall in restraint, slowly twisting her wrists back again. “No one will ever love a woman who wraps herself up inside worlds that don’t exist. Places that don’t link with reality will only bring you down, isolating you from potential friends and relationships. You are a crazy, delusional, reserved freak of nature and if you don’t change your ways, you’ll be a single crazy cat lady for eternity. Mark my words, Iris, this is the best advice you will ever get. Your novel has taken ahold of your personal life. You need to stop writing for good or other people will leave too.” Darin finally releases her. He walks out the door so fast, it’s almost unreal.
Iris’s eyes stare at the front door for several minutes. Her eyes are filled with fresh tears as she sits on the cold floor. Stella jumps in her lap as Iris continues to zone out, her body shivering and heart beating faster than usual.
* * *
“Sure is a nice prize you have here.” The old man wearing a flannel shirt eyes the front seat of Iris’s vehicle the next morning.
“Thank you. I like it.”
“Why you getting rid of it?”
“Because I don’t need it anymore.”
“Fair enough. How much is this thing anyways?” He spits out his chew.
“Five grand.”
“Can I talk you into forty-two hundred? That’s all I have on me.” The man with missing teeth scratches his balding head and lifts up his baggy, dirty work jeans.
“Sure, it’ll be your lucky day.” She smiles at him softly, even though she could really use that extra stack of money.
“Thanks, sweet lady.” He hands her his dirty cash in full and drives off with the little blue car she’d had since seventeen. Small slivers of tears leave Iris’s eyes but she soon cheers up.
Iris heads back into her apartment with the cash immediately stuffed inside an older wallet. She showers before making her final move today. The apartment is still occupied though. No doubt there’s clothes crammed inside closets, dirty dishes, furniture, a crappy bed, and tons of stuffed animals and other random shenanigans, but that wouldn’t stop Iris at all from leaving. The letter she’d sent this morning to her family had a legitimate explanation. Her parents could deal with the abandoned premise; it was the least they could do for their daughter. Iris sighs as she grabs her keys from the table. Three suitcases are already full and Stella is in her crate, meowing like crazy.
“Come on, sweetie.”
* * *
Iris has her passport ready to show the blonde flight attendant waiting in the boarding area. The flight was going to be full but as long as she had Stella, things would be okay.
“Shh,” she cooed at Stella who was meowing under her seat. “It’ll be alright.”
She closes her eyes as other people fill the plane gradually. The fresh and revised version of Abby Tox is tucked in her purse securely. A fan blows in her face while anxiously awaiting take off. Semisonic’s “Closing Time” begins to play in the background, barely loud enough for Iris to hear, but clear enough to relate to the song. A static sound goes over the intercom, opening Iris’s eyes immediately.
“Hello and welcome to British Airways. In just a few minutes, we will be departing from New York City, flying non-stop to the London Heathrow Apartment with a flight duration of five hours and fifteen minutes. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts and turn off all electronic and mobile devices before we depart. Thank you for choosing British Airways! Happy flying!”
Iris smiles as she closes her eyes. In a few minutes, she’ll be leaving America forever with Stella. New beginnings will happen for her. Bad or good, successful or unsuccessful, single or taken, Iris was going to do it all, no matter the outcome