How The Cookie Crumbles (3 page)

“This close,” Mally said, holding up two fingers. “This close to you getting through an interview without saying something stupid. You never, fucking never, predict a win. Now the Canucks’ll be pissed and Coach is gonna be really pissed.” He shook his head in disgust, “It’s like I’m your babysitter.”

I had come into the league straight from juniors and I got partnered with Mally because he was a more experienced D-man. Hell, everyone was more experienced than me then. Mally helped me a ton on the ice, and he tried to help off the ice too. Even now that I was 22, I was still one of the younger guys on the team, but we were all pretty young. Only two guys were over 30.

“Move your ass, Cookie,” someone yelled. I had spent so long with the reporters I was the last one ready to go. It was too bad we were leaving Vancouver tonight; this city had some really smokin’ chicks. Last night at the Roxy had been great. Must be all that mountain air or something.

I talked to Mally about them on the plane. “Vancouver has the hottest women,” I said. “I mean, L.A. is great, but Vancouver chicks are more….” I didn’t know exactly what the word was.

“You mean, you didn’t even get a good night’s sleep before a playoff game?” Mally stared at me in shock.

“What? I played fine.” That no-sex-before-a-game shit was old school.

He sighed, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. You did have a great game. If getting some before a big game is what relaxes you, then fine. Maybe you should get a girlfriend or something, so you can get drained regularly.”

“A girlfriend? Not this boy. I’m too young to get tied down.”

4. Earl’s for Girls

The next night when I showed up for my evening shift at Earl’s, I knew that Matt wasn’t working, so things wouldn’t be too awful. To be completely honest, I hated my job, but the money was excellent. Waitressing there was sexist and depressing. Like most of the expensive chains in the city, Earl’s had a rep for having attractive waitresses. Thus the popular phrase around Vancouver: “Earl’s for girls.” And guess what, if you advertise cute waitresses, you end up with the kind of clientele who want to be served by cute waitresses. Or should I say, serviced.

I realized it was hypocritical of me to take big tips from guys who were trying to impress me and then protest about sexism, but I felt there was a professional line here. I knew my role here and a little flirting was fine, and I would certainly smile and laugh at their lame jokes and come-ons, but some guys never understood the limits.

To hear the sexist remarks as I walked away from the table like, “Oh, I’d like to tap that ass,” or to have orders placed by guys who treated my breasts like the speakers at a drive-through was a frigging pain in the aforementioned ass. As I knew from my third year Gender Relations course, it was a part of the male patriarchal system designed to keep women subjugated and powerless. However it was hard to be a proper feminist in the short skirts and fitted blouses we all wore. Since I was trying to earn enough money to pay for my university expenses, I had to grin and bear it. When I had complained to Matt, he only laughed and told me I was lucky that guys wanted to hit on me since it meant I was hot.

As soon as I got to work, I knew something was up. Cinnamon, who was one of my better friends there, pulled me aside once I walked in the door.

“Oh my God, Frankie, I am so sorry to hear that you and Matt broke up! You guys were like the perfect couple.”

“It’s okay, but wow, it doesn’t take long for bad news to spread. How did you hear about this anyway?” It only happened yesterday afternoon, and neither Matt nor I worked last night.

“Well, Shawntell told me. Matt called her and he asked her out! Did you not know?” Cinnamon’s eyes were wide and her perfectly glossed lips formed a matching circle.

“What! He’s going on a date with Shawntell?”

Matt and I used to laugh at Shawntell. In addition to having a mother who couldn’t spell, she was blessed with gorgeous sun-streaked looks and a killer body. But she was so incredibly stupid that she gave dumb blondes a bad name. She was constantly getting her orders wrong, and causing all kinds of problems in the kitchen. Was dating airheads what Matt meant by having more fun? Of course, she also confided in me that she believed giving b.j.’s gave her an orgasm because she had an extra clitoris in her mouth, which now seemed to be information I probably shouldn’t have passed on to Matt.

I hinted to Aaron, the assistant manager, that I wouldn’t mind getting cut early that night, but he just blew me off. He liked to keep more experienced waitresses around on Sundays in case it got unexpectedly busy. I managed to avoid Shawntell most of my shift since it was busy; around nine-thirty I saw Matt sitting at the bar chatting with the bartenders. I felt so weird seeing him, at first I was excited that he was there and then sad when I realized that he wasn’t there for me.

I walked over to the bar to say hello. I could show that I was mature and adult and cool.

“Hey Matt, how’re you doing?”

“Hey Frankie… good, good.”

He barely glanced at me and Marshall who was tending bar gave me a sympathetic tilt of the head.

I walked away without saying anything else. How could we have been in love yesterday and now nothing? I started to feel really down. But that was just the beginning of my woes.

Shawntell walked out from the back, after her shift she had switched out her white shirt and black skirt for a sheer top and jeggings.

“Oh Frankie! Are you okay?” she cooed at me with mock sympathy.

“Fine, Shawntell, why wouldn’t I be?” I wasn’t going to let her see how sad I felt.

“Oh! No reason!” Her blue eyes went all big and she blinked her fake eyelashes at me. I mean, I wore false eyelashes too, but hers were like the wings of steroidal glitter moth. Then she sashayed away, went over to the bar and greeted Matt.

Her girlish voice carried across the room, “Hey gorgeous, I’m all ready to go out and par-tay!”

And she gave Matt a big hug and a kiss. When he looked down at her and smiled in his sweet, slow way, I was frozen to the spot. Cinnamon said something to me, but I didn’t hear her words, I couldn’t stop watching. He rose up, put his hand on the small of her back and led her out the door. He never even looked back to see how I was taking it all.

I felt breathless, like all the oxygen in the room was gone. And I hurt inside, I think my heart was actually hurting.

“Cinny, do me a favour,” I gasped, “Eleven is all settled, would you mind clearing and re-setting the table for me after they leave?”

“Sure, Frankie, sure.” Cinnamon was all sympathy and concern.

I ran to the staff washroom and barely held my tears back until I got in. I was still in love with Matt, and I had to see him going out on a date already. It was like all the months we spent together meant nothing if he could date so soon. And it hurt so much to watch him do the same little considerate things for her he did for me. They looked like such a perfect, golden couple together, even if there was only one brain between the two of them. I cried for at least ten minutes, and then I heard a knock at the door.

“Frankie, may I speak?” It was Aaron, using the “Earl’s speak” method of addressing someone. That he was so formal at a time like this was just proof of what kind of knobs got promoted here.

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I sobbed.

“Frankie, let me in.”

“Nooooo, I don’t want you to see me like this….”

“It’s okay, just unlock the door.”

I did and Aaron walked in. He was a bit awkward with people, so he tried to give me a hug, but it turned into patting my back, like I was a baby he was trying to burp.

“Um, Frankie, you can’t really go out and work like this.”

I looked in the mirror. My mascara had gone all punk raccoon and my skin was red and blotchy. I wasn’t exactly an ad for fun times at Earl’s.

“Look, why don’t you just go home. I’ll cut you now, it’s dead out there anyway.”

I nodded, “Thank you, Aaron.”

“Man, you’re the last person I ever thought I’d be in the washroom saying this to, but you need to pull yourself together. What Matt did was definitely sketch, but you’re a professional, right?”

I nodded, but the tears kept leaking out of my eyes. I was a good worker and I had never brought my personal issues to work like everyone else did, but really these were extreme circumstances. Still he was right, having a breakdown at work was totally adolescent and humiliating. And around here, it was something that happened nightly but never before to me.

5. Daring and Adventurous?

I rode the 99 B-line back to my apartment and looked out the bus window sadly. Sunday night and everyone was out in couples. Happy couples holding hands, smiling and talking to each other, laughing and flirting; happy frigging couples everywhere I looked. And I was alone, all alone.

As if on cue, some drunken guy turned around and started talking to me. “Hey sweetheart, are you alone?” His breath was a winning combination of beer and garlic.

The words burst out of me. “Yes! I’m alone. I’m all alone, and I’ll be alone for the rest of my natural life because all guys are pigs; huge, fat, stinking pigs who never think about anything but themselves and their need to have fun, fun, fun!”

“Okey-dokey.” Even drunk, the guy could recognize a Looney Tune, and he turned back around. The hipster guy across the aisle from me slipped out of his seat and went to the back of the bus, preferring to deal with the gangsters back there instead of the insane chick. I got home, safely unmolested.

I walked into the apartment and flopped onto the couch. My two roommates were both home, but locked away in their rooms since they still had exams left.

Usually when I walked into the apartment, I felt all happy and safe. I loved nesting, and this place was my first big decorating project. I had sewn creamy linen curtains for the living room and made gorgeous jewel-toned cushions for the beige-y couch that Lauren had snuck out of her parent’s basement. I had reupholstered the fifties chair I found on Craigslist with a retro print and only stapled one finger in the process. And I had accessorized with free paintings from my friends in fine arts as well as fabric collages I made myself. Our place turned out pretty slick for student apartment. All our friends loved to hang out here, and normally I felt cheered up when I walked in after a hard day. But everything that happened tonight started to crowd out my brief happy feeling, and I could feel the tears welling up again. I think I had cried more in the last two days than in the last two years!

Rex sauntered out to greet me. He was a black and white cat that I had found on my way home from classes over a year ago. When I met him, he was skinny and scabby and forlorn, and I fed him part of a leftover sandwich I had in my pack. After that he had followed me home and basically refused to leave. Although cats are supposed to be self-regulating around food, he seemed to remember his life on the street and basically ate everything I set in front of him in 90 seconds and then wanted more. He had expanded from skinny to fatty in no time, and although he adored me, he still hated the rest of mankind. My roommates barely tolerated him and Matt had suggested more than once that I take him to the shelter, since Rex had scratched him and insisted on sleeping on the bed between us and he snored. (I mean Rex snored, not Matt who had been perfect even while unconscious.) But who would ever adopt such a crabby cat? If I took him to the shelter, he would never find another home.

“Oh Rexy, you were right. Matt was a tool! I should have listened to you.” I gave Rex a cat treat and then went into my bedroom. Rex followed me, either to comfort me or in hopes of more treats.

I threw myself face down on the bed and sobbed. There was a knock on my door.

“Frank? You okay?” Bianca’s voice called out.

I lifted my head off the pillow and choked out the word “Fine.”

Bianca walked in and Rex hissed at her. She hissed back and sat down on the bed beside me.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” She patted me on the back. I had already unloaded my whole sad breakup tale to her at breakfast.

“Matt’s dating already. Tonight, he picked up Shawntell, one of the other waitresses at work and they left together. It hurt so much to see them go.” Yesterday was bad enough, but for Matt to start dating so quickly meant that this whole breakup was something he had planned way in advance. He couldn’t wait to start having fun with complete bimbos instead of boring me!

“What an asshole! Like they couldn’t meet somewhere else, where you didn’t have to see them? I can’t believe him. Matt seemed like such a nice guy, and now he’s acting like a total douche. Has he had a concussion or something?”

Bianca was properly indignant. I flipped over onto my back and looked up at her. Bianca had been a friend ever since I met her in Grade 8. She was smart and cute and Chinese, much like everyone else here at the University of a Billion Chinese. Bianca was in engineering and the uneven ratio of men to women meant that she could have a new boyfriend every week if she wanted. This male surplus made her very intolerant of bad boyfriends like Matt had turned out to be.

I made a horrible face. “What am I going to do? I cried at work, I’ve never done that before and now I’m as lame and hormonal as everyone else. I work so hard to be professional and now everyone is going to feel sorry for me and think I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not the idiot, he is, but still….”

“Still, what?”

“Maybe you should make a change, you hate your job and now it’s getting personal. You don’t want to have to see them together all summer, do you?”

“Noooo,” I agreed, seeing them getting closer and closer would be agony. And if they didn’t get on, he’d probably just start dating someone else. After all, Earl’s was full of cute girls, almost all of whom had told me how lucky I was to have a guy like Matt. “Still the money’s so good there, and I need money or I’d have to move back home.”

“Yeah, but you’re an experienced waitress, maybe you could make more money at a nicer place.”

Hmmm, that was a good idea. I’d have to sleep on it, but it was certainly worth considering. Not having to see Matt would help me to forget him that much faster, and I certainly wouldn’t have to see him going out on dates.