You’d think working with animals would be pretty cool, right? You’d be wrong. I’ve been working with animals nearly all my life and let me tell you they can be just as much of a jackass as that next door neighbor of yours who starts blasting loud music on the dot of midnight when you’ve just found that comfy spot in bed.
I’m Lucy by the way. Lucy Priestly. I work as a receptionist at the Waterville vet clinic and the most exciting part of my day is deciding what to have for lunch and that just isn’t enough motivation for me to get out of bed.
The alarm is blaring again and I feel my toes nudging the rest of my foot out of bed, inch by inch no matter how strongly I command it to stay put because we’re staying in bed today, damn it!
Foot on the floor.
Betrayed by my own body.
I’m shorter than the average person which means I meet people crotch first. It can be disconcerting meeting people when they have their junk sticking in your face. As it is I have to stand on a stool to be able to look in my bathroom mirror.
I’m not very pretty. The most striking thing about me is my bright blue hair; but that’s an artificial contrivance; it’s the only thing I’m vain about. The rest is average Joe. I have light brown eyes with just a smidge of green but it’s barely visible behind my glasses. My sharp chin gets a tiny dimple when I smile. My pug nose is my worst feature and it doesn’t help that it’s scattered with freckles.
I’m brushing my teeth when someone tries to breakdown my door.
It’s jackass from next door.
“You need to get out,” he says. He’s tall, lanky and his face is obscured by a beard. I’ve never seen him up so early in my life. He probably never went to bed. “New tenant coming in.”
Did I mention he’s also my landlord?
“I paid this months’ rent,” I protest.
“Yeah,” he says as if he’s just remembered, pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and hands it to me. “There. Now, you have a week to find someplace new.”
“Are you throwing me out?” I’m really mad now. This doesn’t seem to be some crazy, weed fueled high; he’s serious. “This is ridiculous!”
“I have a new tenant coming in,” he repeats.
“I got that but you can’t give them my place, I paid rent on it,” I say thrusting the money back at him. “You can’t just kick me out. We had an agreement.”
“Dude she’s my cousin,” he whines, “And my dad says she’s supposed to live here now. Do me a solid, come on.”
“Do you a solid?” I screech. “Why should I do you a solid? You’re evicting me, you asshole!”
“Hey don’t get screechy now,” he says backing away a few steps. He’s holding his hands up as if I were dangerous. The guy’s over six feet. I’m a Chihuahua compared to him. “It’s not my fault. My dad’s making me do it.”
“Fuck you, and your dad,” I shout and slam the door in his face.
“Does this mean you’ll leave?” his voice is muffled through the door. “Or do I have to call the cops.”
Great! Regular bad day just turned in to super bad day. Now I have to find listings for apartments in this scenic hell hole. I’m too angry to make myself breakfast. Plus I’m sure I’ll try to burn the place down, the state that I’m in. I head to work, ignoring the sorry note taped to the front door. Landlord boy can shove that up his ass for all I care.
I didn’t always live in Waterville; I’m a Detroit girl who got quite sick of the concrete and wanted a better life. I didn’t think it would be this boring though. My parents are happy I made it out. They Skype chat with me every Friday night.
Yup, every Friday night.
We sometimes have Skype dinner dates!
For the hundredth time I wonder what on earth am I doing here. I could have up and left a long time ago but I’m lazy and I love the lobster roll at Curley’s. I first came to Waterville chasing a boy. He was handsome, your classic American handsome, blonde hair, blue eyes, the works. After three months of dating he dumped me to join the troops and flew off to Iraq.