“It’s so hard to invest time and money into something and have it go wrong. You must feel terrible about it.”
“I… do,” Tabby said cautiously. “It was the first thing I put heaps of effort into for ages, and it all went to shit.AndI couldn’t get any of the deposits back, so, in addition to being a laughingstock, I’m broke as fuck.”
Jo gave a little sympathetic hum, and Tabby felt invigorated. Whenever she mentioned the third-trimester abortion that was Sparkling Whine to her sisters or Scott or even Noah, they were all fake positive and life-affirm-y. ‘You’ll get back on your feet! Just save up and try something else!’
It was enough to make a girl put her head through a window.
“Everything completely sucks right now,” Tabby said, flexing her misery muscle a little more. “But nothing sucks as much as the fact Toby Tennant went evil because of my cursed genitals.”
Tabby was immediately worried she’d pushed it too far, but Jo seemed as unperturbed by that statement as anything else she’d said.
“When you say he ‘went evil’…?”
“Quit his job, invested in cryptocurrency, started doing CrossFit and bought a beachfront property in St Kilda.”
Jo winced, and Tabby was gratified that she knew where she was coming from. Working in finance was bad enough, but living on the fucking Esplanade? Near the eastern suburbs!?
“I didn’t even tell you the best-worst part: He has a money podcast, you know, one of those ones where finance dickweeds pretend to know how investing works?”
“Um…”
“I’ll play you a bit.” Tabby removed her glove, whipped out her phone and searched ‘Cash Kings: Finance Bros Unleashed’—a name that never failed to fill her with rage. This was a slight detour in the tattooing process, but fuck it, she was the one hunched over the chair, her wrists cramping into Hargraven’s claws from thousands of hours of inking. The least punters could do was indulge her irrational anger.
Ignoring the thumbnail of Toby and his co-host's dumb faces, Tabby hit play on the top episode, ‘Lambo Dreams and Rolex Schemes: The Right Way to Handle Flashy Investments.’
“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” she muttered. “Wait till you hear this, Joanne. Your name’s Joanne, right?”
“It is?—”
“Shhh, it’s about to start!”
“Good afternoon, morning, evening, wherever you are, investors,” came a smooth, ultra-deep baritone.
Tabby’s breakfast tortilla rose in her stomach like an avocado-laced zombie.
“You’re listening to ‘Cash Kings’ with Toby Tennant. As always, I’m joined by Brennan MacAvaney and Tom Hurst.”
“Hey, Tobes.”
“What up, big lad?”
“Nothing much, boys. Today, we’re gonna discuss the pros and cons of those riskier investments that come across your screen from time to time, including?—”
Tabby had heard enough. She exited the podcast app. “I can’t believe I smashed someone who self-identifies as a finance bro.”
“That podcast does sound terrible,” Jo agreed.
“You have no idea. I hate-listen when I can’t sleep, and it’s like… new levels of audio self-harm. He should sell it to whoever’s running Gitmo these days.”
She laughed. “And what does this Toby Tennant look like?”
“These days? A four-hundred-dollar haircut with a thumb attached.”
“And that looks like?”
“Oh, you know. They’re always swanning around Chapel Street in the cuntiest ‘fits you’ve ever seen. All linen shirts and cufflinks. It’s like, fuck, we get it, you’ve done cocaine. Congrats. It was probably all crushed-up chalk and methamphetamine anyway.” Tabby put her tattooing glove back on and picked up her blotting sheets. “Five hundred bucks a bag, my hole…”
“He sounds handsome.”
