Fired
by Lynnda—Age 43—Glasgow, Scotland
The day I am fired I meet Jackie after work. She scores me Seconal and we drop the tabs heading up Rockey Street to find a dark bar to top ourselves up with a couple of lagers; the get high pals.
“Unsuitable.” That’s the word they choose to use. I’m amazed it’s taken them six months to see what I knew the first week. I had bought two new work dresses, borrowing some money from a friend who sold home-made soaps at the flea market. My real skin’s a pair of old black jeans and a vintage cerise shirt with crocheted lace collar. My clothes smell sharp with sweat and smoke from nights in the bar with Jackie. The boss leans forward, her groomed hands stretch across the desk in reasonable appeal. In my head I’m humming “I’ve been told “˜bout the house on the hill,” thinkina about asking Jackie tonight whether her doctor could include Nembutal on the next script. The high is legendary. Are we agreed then? Boss Woman smiles and leans back, her unpleasant task for the day completed. I nod. Her blond head tilts, magnanimous and calculating. There’s no need to work out your notice period. I realise with an unexpected jolt of pleasure that I will be out of this shithole by lunchtime. Forever! I am already gathering up my new black handbag. We will of course pay you for time not worked, she adds as I leave. I see that she wants me to appreciate the generosity of this. I do. I walk home through Hillbrow, the peppery heat of the sun burning my shoulders. The street sellers are sitting on chequered blankets, their legs stuck out like shiny brown matchsticks, surrounded by fruit and vegetables, sewing thread, coloured wristbands and woven baskets. They shout to me, sensing that I am in a mood to buy. I pick up a bag of warm peaches and eat them all on the way home, juice running down my chin and staining my collar. For the first time in months I am light with freedom and anticipation. I am still humming “House on the Hill” as I let myself into the flat and exchange my new clothes for old. I don’t know it yet, but tonight Jackie and I will chase the dragon for the first time, and in two months she will be dead.
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