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hackwriters


Empty pockets on a summer day
Tabytha Towe is broke - send cash now
It’s already gotten down to looking for change in the couch for gas money, my am I a lame scavenger.

 

 

I've spent my very last penny. It has been well over a month now since I last received a pay cheque, due to being suspended from my job for a couple weeks! Won’t let that happen again will I? Oh man, am I in extreme debt now or what, probably more than ever…but then again what I consider broke means minor details like I can not afford daily parking. I have to walk a few blocks farther, OK I can deal with that, though even a nice cold beer is becoming too expensive for me so I have to play it utterly cheap and order tap water from a bar.

Never mind the new, sexy underwear I needed because of the undies I still have to wear from like 5 years ago my ass can barley squeeze into anymore, forget that idea, I mean whoa! does this ever suck the big one! It’s already gotten down to looking for change in the couch for gas money, my am I a lame scavenger.

However I may paint a not so pretty picture I do have to keep in mind that I still have food in my belly and a gravel roof over my head. At least I am not the kind of broke that I am struggling for survival. I just have to make more sacrifices for a while, a long while. Also my idea of debt may seem like a little hole in the pocket to some, but to me it’s like a hole in my future, as far as I see the future being right now (within the next three months.)

I owe an embarrassing (I won’t even say how much) amount of money to the insurance company on stupid fines that I have already paid off, though for some reason have to pay for twice! Those sinister ass suckers really don’t like to make friends I take it. As I have been unpaid for so long, basically I have been borrowing money from the bank for the past month which somehow also has to be paid off by the end of the month and I don’t have a dime on me to do shit all about it. Although I did recently land another job with the time off work, I still don’t get paid for another while either. I certainly hope that juggling two jobs will suffice for the time being to pay everything back.

I’m more concerned my summer will be screwed, for when I spend all I earn immediately on debts, I won’t have anything left to spend on the good stuff. You know; entertainment and fundamentals such as little vacations here and there, dining out at my favorite lounges and restaurants or even a damned bathing suit for christsakes! I absolutely loathe being on a tight budget, it’s really quite depressing, especially when it’s summer for only a few, short months out of the year and I’m a young, suburban woman with a desire for everything.

All right I don’t expect to try everything, just enough to keep me happy. For now, going to the beach for free (in my non-bathing suit tank top and shorts I might add) contains my extravagant urges. The sun alone can make me happy, but I’d be happier If I could enjoy it in another country with a cold margarita…

Don’t you find that every time I write I complain about the lack of money I have? You must think I’m a spoiled brat. Trust me, it’s just gratifying at least being able to bitch about what you can’t have. Is my life that boring all I can do is whimper over stupid money?

Well on a lighter subject, by now I think it might be time for me to spill the beans on my latest beau, my last for a long time at that I should say.

It still seems inappropriate for me to write about him, since I did have a break up not too long ago - and I don’t want to be the Big Bad Bitch for moving on. Plus I care about my ex and would prefer not to offend him for he might actually read my verbal spewing still. That being said, I’ll go back to the beginning of my new found victim and give you the short and censored version, of course.

We had been co-workers for over a year and never took note of each other all along, until we started actually working together; you see, he worked in the back, at nights mostly and I worked at front, during the day mostly. Hence, us both working at the front later on we became acquainted, just as far as job association goes. To be completely honest, we were never attracted to each other at first either. I had my boyfriend then and had no lurking eyes, and his were lurking everywhere, even from the back of his big head. I thought him to be a cocky bastard and perhaps a little shallow, but I could tell he also had a surface act. I started more or less to get interested in finding out with what was underneath, as did he of me. For a while we restricted ourselves to the job relation and that was it, but then soon enough we broke a barrier…home phone numbers... Eventually, my boyfriend and I came to a disappointing end, or so I felt. During the crying and trying to get getting over him and the break up stage, I became kind of lonely. I didn’t go out with my girlfriends for a couple of weeks, hung out with the boys a bit though because they wouldn’t ask too many questions and just goof around. So I never really talked to any one about it.

Now work life and personal life I always considered as separate. I basically let friends at work know I have different to friends outside of work, with the exception of one person, that became him. By the way I will refer to “him” as “Chuck” for I never got permission to use his actual name yet.

Over time, it turns out that the more we got to learn about each other the more attractive we found each other. He really isn’t such a cocky asshole after all. Hesitant to get too close too soon, since the current situation we were in was not in our favor, (me having been a recent relationship and him being scarred in the past,) we ignited slowly, day by day, not spontaneous at all - which is very unlike me. *One major bonus, my family seems to like him, my puppy just adores him to death, and maybe even my father approves a bit too! Phew.

We are somewhat opposites, but not extreme. If we do not agree with one another we’ll still hear each other out and respect that opinion. Not once have we fought, we make sure we talk to each other, no lies, no hiding, no bullshit, we act like complete dorks around each other, always laughing and affectionate. This is a healthy relationship I must say. Rather than dread that the fun will soon fade and get worse within time, I think things can only get better here on in. To this day things get better. He is wonderful in every way. Every moment I spend with him I realize this, and so does he!! Thanks Chucky!

(P.S Many people at our work still find us a rumor. –See below)

Maybe this other job I recently grabbed myself will help my financial situation out. It’s a very cute restaurant called “The Planet.” Casual, just the way I like it, especially to get started, it alleviates the pressure. The environment is romantic, I can therefore count on selling wine and booze, not only that, but the food is tasty and filling and pricing not too shabby either. It’s nice to be somewhere where you always have something to do and yet remain calm while doing so. I’m already comfortable after two shifts and am learning pretty quickly, though I could work quicker on the computer system they run, (you know my relationship with computers, worse than with men, I’m screwed for life now). Five year olds understand more about technology than I do these days, it’s terrifying.

Yesterday I served my first tables’ ever. I’ve wanted to serve for ages, and my other restaurant job claim that they can’t lose me as a hostess -or some bull or other. In retrospect to my first shift, I did fairly well. The only accident that occurred was my slicing my finger open and bleeding all over the lemons. Anyhow the guests I waited on didn’t find me totally horrible so that’s a good sign. I will be the superwoman of serving soon enough, without slicing anything or anyone. Hopefully I will get a lot of hours with a lot of turns so I can make a lot of change in my pocket for the ‘save up to pay off fucking debts and fines - yet be able to afford part of a fun life too- Fund’.

The staff at “The Planet” is few but friendly, not like the other restaurant I work at with 160+ members on board, yet I find I might like it better in some ways, it’s a little more intimate and a little more supportive. In big industries everyone is so competitive, concerned with who gets what and so forth. However, there is more room for juicy gossip with 160+ people. How many stories regarding myself flying around I don’t even know, you’d think that with that number of people, surely there would be enough real rumors running around there wouldn't be any need to make up stories. But it happens nonetheless. I’ve had acquaintances of mine ask me if I was really a lesbian… So I’ve made out with a couple of chicks, big deal, but instantly things get blown out of proportion, regardless if people already know that I’m heterosexual, just for that hint of curious excitement in asking anyways, in case it all of a sudden it is in, fact, the case. Oh but you have got to play things off like that to the gullible for fun, like claim you turned gay overnight in a magical moment under a disco ball with two bubble gum breath, hot broads or something. You can be more explicit on the hotness of the other dykes, for the guys it's a hard on, never fails.

I’ve probably, most likely, more like definitely repeated some stories that perhaps were not true, that I just heard it through the grape vine, but you still have a laugh in sharing it regardless. Other peoples’ lives always sound more interesting wouldn’t you say?

The most secure or best looking people doubt themselves all the time, we expect so much of ourselves we cannot accept our own flaws. If people don’t appreciate {their own} stories as it happened, why would they appreciate a fake story better?
Who knows. Well that's it. I'm still broke, but still here. I hear the beach calling....

Take care
© Tabytha Towe - July 2002

Luck versus Irony
Tabytha Towe
I am the kind of person who would lose my life savings on a stupid bet or something, or I would find the best outfit in the world that makes me look voluptuous and sexy, but in the wrong color.

Previous moments from Tabytha Towe's diary:
ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR
FIVE. SIX. SEVEN. SEVEN and a half EIGHT. NINE -TEN- ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN

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