- Problem solver extraordinaire
- Enhance someone’s professional image with their coworkers, bosses, and even millions of fans
- Make miracles happen hourly
And put all of those on a resume?
No. Assistants are a special breed, and I felt like I might have found my place in the world with someone who really appreciated those skills I have honed.
But the red flags started piling up, and by the time it started to look like a circus, I had the sense to cut and run. I just left one toxic environment, it sure as hell wasn’t to walk into another one. And all for a little more than what I could’ve made working the window at Dairy Queen. And I didn’t even get to flip Blizzards upside down? Nah. I decided my peace of mind, my sanity and my enjoyment of life are worth more to me than a slightly higher paycheck. No job is worth being miserable over. So I quit that shit, fast.
After talking it over with my parents at a family dinner one weekend, they encouraged me to do something I really enjoyed while I figure the rest out. They insisted I wasn’t in a hurry, and to fill my time with something that brings me joy on a daily basis while I work out a long-term plan.
As much thought as I’ve put into that since I quit working for Aaron, the only thing I can ever come up with that I really love is reading. Honestly, it’s the only real pastime I’ve ever had on myown, the only thing that defined me as my own person outside of the Gemron friendship that seems to be all I’ve been good for up until now.
So I started poking around. Turns out, you need, like, mega degrees to become a librarian. I’m embarrassed to admit I had no idea how that worked. But italsoturned out that the library closest to my parents’ house (a decently sized one in a moderately bougie Atlanta suburb) was dramatically understaffed and underfunded. I got to chatting with the librarian who runs the place, Brenda, and found out her main counterpart went on maternity leave recently, and she’s been drowning ever since. Brendawas too eager to appreciate any additional help I could offer the place above and beyond what my actual title of library technician (a.k.a. library assistant) dictates for the next two and a half months.
She’s been freaking lovely, and it’s kind of turned into my happy place, being surrounded by the smell of books all day, and the people who appreciate them (or who are forced to use them for assignments, to prove a spouse wrong in some obscure fight, or simply have nowhere else to go). It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I actually look forward to my shift every day. And it’s even got my brain going, thinking up some other ideas I might want to run with at some point, as my confidence in my own abilities regrows from the ground up.
So when one of Brenda’s kids fell off the playground at their elementary school this afternoon and she had to rush off, I offered to lock up. More than just trying to ease her workload, I find myself wanting to earn her trust. We’ve formed the beginnings of a bond these past few weeks, and I’m happy she was willing to let me take this on.
A sigh of relief sounds from my lips as I do a visual confirmation on the lock on the emergency exit (Iknewnothing had unlocked it), and a quick double tap of a car horn grabs myattention when I turn around. One of the volunteers, a female college student, waves enthusiastically at me as I look up, and I give her a grateful smile and a small flick of my hand in farewell as she tears out of the lot.
While we have minimal actual staff, we do have a few volunteers, which surprised me to learn. God bless the people who make the time to make this world a better place, starting in their own backyards and with their own two hands, out of the goodness of their hearts. In my experience so far on this earth, there’s alotof talkers, but it’s refreshing to see there are actuallydoersout there, too. This particular girl is the only one who’s close to my own age; most of the other volunteers are elderly women and then there’s one absolute riot of an old man called Ken who’s got a story for absolutely everything. And not all of them are appropriate for a public place. A blush heats my cheeks recalling one he shared on my first day.
I dunno why people tend to assume old people are innocent and wholesome. They can bedirty, but then again, I suppose they’re just like you and me, with a few extra decades to get into trouble tacked on. Half of the ones I’ve met here had a wilder youth than mine, and I suspect the other half did too, they just don’t have the need to share it with me.
The volunteers mostly stock the shelves and work on administrative tasks behind the scenes, but it frees me up to work the desk and help patrons who need assistance, and lets Brenda manage the whole show.
Once I’m settled into my car, the doors are locked and I’m buckled in, I open my phone to check the texts and see if there’s been any change in plans.
A nervous bubble jostles around in my belly when I see yet another unanswered text pop up from Aaron. I swipe left to ignore it for the time being and focus on the one I’m here to see.
Alexandra the Great
You otw?
Me
Leaving now!
To say I’m feeling anxious about tonight would be an understatement, but I’m also ready for this. Putting the gearshift into reverse to back out of my spot, I follow the directions on the GPS to my destination, with that day she took me shopping playing in my mind.
Alex was dressed more casually than she usually is on set, with tight jeans on, high top sneakers, and a black leather corset top underneath a red and black buffalo-checked shirt, wide open to show off what she had going on underneath. Her black hair was pulled up in a high pony that was far more voluminous and stylish than anything I’ve managed before. She was somehow sporty, chic, and fully her own bitch all at once, and I felt almost envious of her beauty and her style. Not that I’d ever rock something like that, but she is so completelyherin every environment, it makes me want that for myself. Whatever that would look like.
“How are you socoolall the time?” I asked her, like the nerd I am, stars probably floating in my eyes as I stared at her.
She looked up from the rack of clothes she was sorting through, made eye contact with me, and laughed before responding. “Thanks babe, but I think you’re probably just seeing that I’m comfortable in my skin and my style.”
A pause and a blank stare from me, and she continued. “You haven’t had a lot of female role models in your life, have you? Other women to lift you up or help you when you need it?”
My head dropped so I could stare at my feet, scuffing the thin carpeting as I shook my head and tucked a loose section of hairback behind my ear. “My mom isn’t very feminine, I never really learned makeup or style or anything from her. But she helps me in other areas.”
When I don’t list off any other women, she understands. “Aaron probably wasn’t super helpful with that stuff as you went from teen to woman.” A snort leaves my mouth and when I look back up at her, she’s grinning knowingly at me.
“Not really…”
“Okay, well why don’t you start working on your own personal style? Like this isn’t something we’re going to do in an afternoon, but just start looking online, at Pinterest, or blogs, or wherever you like to scour in those late hours…” She made a suggestive face, bumping her shoulder into mine and winking at me to make sure I’m not taking her suggestions in a way that makes me feel less, but rather like more.
