Passion

'Nikkiiiii!'

'Beckyyyy!' I shouted back.

I raised my arms and she rushed in, hugging me tight, almost knocking my sunglasses off. She felt warm.

'I can't believe you did it!' she shouted in my ear. She pulled back before diving in for another hug. 'You're my sexy super sandwich...shaper? OK, that didn't work, but you're still super.' She pulled away, beaming.

I laughed, saying 'Thanks, bub.'

'Can't believe you won,' she said.

'It's only a stupid competition,' I said, trying to hide my pride. It didn't work.

Becky looked down, wiping an invisible tear from her eye. 'I'll have to make do with my everyone-who-enters-gets-a-prize prize,' she said.

'Aww, you get my best-friend-ever prize,' I said.

'Yay!'

'In fact...' I picked a pen from my shirt pocket and grabbed a certificate, changing the words employee of the month to bestest friend evar!, passing it quickly to Becky.

'I'll keep it close to me, always,' she said in a mock romantic way, holding the paper to her chest. 'Ooh! Did you get a trophy?'

'Yeah, it's at home. I'll show you later.'

'Nikki,' interrupted Wendy, her uniform so well ironed its corners must hurt. 'You're the first state champion for this franchise. Well done.'

'Thanks, Wendy,' I said.

'Make sure you keep up the good work,' said Wendy. 'You'll need to be in form for the nationals.'

I nodded. Whenever I was near Wendy I felt the need to act formally. It wasn't just an authority thing, I don't think, especially since I'm older.

'Talk after, yeah?' I said to Becky. She smiled and went back to the baking station. I love Becky soooo much.

I trudged into food prep. Ugh, early starts suck. Still, nothing could take the smile from my face today.

I'd got some time off for the competition and it took me a moment to find my bearings. My eyes still bleary, I picked up a sharp knife – probably not a good combination – and started cutting some slices of tomato. I looked at the deep red centre, the seeds almost magically sticking to each slice. It was just becoming ripe and would be perfect by the time our customers ate it. That was something that bugged me: we'd get good quality produce, much better than you'd get from a deli or something, yet people would always complain about the lack of freshness at fast food joints.

'Service!' came the call from out front, jarring my daydream and making me drop some tomato on the floor. Ah well, no big deal.

I rushed to the front and took the order of a burly guy with a stained blue top. 'Gimme twulve-unch huney-oot, love,' he said, possibly trying to add italics to the twelve-inch part. Meh. After a few years of hearing it you kind of don't. For some reason it's less sleazy than the constant 'nice head' comments I had as a bar-wench. Maybe it's the daylight.

'Lot'sa tomato, thee-are love,' demanded blue-top. His eyes were focussed on the roll, checking up on my (award-winning) work. I looked at him, in turn. The stains looked like cement...or maybe gyprock. Yeah, more the latter. My cousin does that, or did that. This guy definitely worked in construction.

After a few more orders I finished the sandwich and handed it to Wendy at checkout. She smiled at blue-top; not just a polite smile, but a real one. Despite being married to a short, accountant-type, she seemed to like the rough ones.

I skipped out back and stood behind Becky quietly.

'I know you're there,' said Becky.

'Spoilsport,' I responded. 'Going out tonight?'

'Nah, no money. Gotta do some assignments anyway.'

'Yuck, I don't miss that!'

'What are you gonna do?' she said.

'Umm...' I paused, trying to come up with a reason why I wasn't heading out.

'Service!'

Saved.

I rushed to the front, greeted by two girls in school uniform. Brighton High, I think. They wanted their sandwiches toasted, which gave me a chance to listen to their conversation.

'So lyk reece wntd 2 giv me dis,' said the blonde girl, showing something by her side.

'OMG, serious?' said the blonder girl.

Well that made me feel old.

When I'd finished up with the twins, another customer was waiting. Tall, dark hair, fucking gorgeous. OK, so he was wearing a suit, which always helps. But still, hot as.

'Can we get more cucumber?' I shouted out to Becky. I don't forget my girls in times like this. She raced to the archway, hiding behind the toaster, craning to get a good look.

I took Mr suit's order and started making the sandwich. If I had been as nervous as this during the competition I wouldn't have won. Maybe mentioning the win would impress him?

No.

No, of course it wouldn't. That was pretty stupid. Some hot, successful guy in a suit comes in and I think he'd love to hear all about how fast I am at making sandwiches. Holy fuck, what's wrong with me?

It's like I was sitting on some bubble, letting it float freely, not caring about anything below. But it really is just a bubble, isn't it? Who cares if I can make stupid sandwiches?

'Oh, no cheese, thanks,' said Mr suit.

'Sorry,' I mumbled.

Oh yes, very successful, Nikki. You've got a great career cutting up tomatoes, working with teenagers and a boss who has drunk so much of the cool-aid I'd hate to see her pee.

I'm sure your mum is so happy you're still living at home. I'm sure she doesn't consider you a failure and loves you just as you are. Who cares what you did at uni? You've just won a contest for making sandwiches. And you really think this guy would be impressed? What else do you really have to offer a guy? What do you have to offer society for that matter? Well I can cut this roll quite neatly. Brilliant!

I quickly finished up the roll and handed it to Wendy, scuttling off out back.

'He was all right,' said Becky. 'Why didn't you have a go?'

I rushed past and headed straight for the toilets.

'Nik? What's wrong?'

I burst inside a cubicle and sat on the toilet, crying. Why do I always do this? Why the constant roller-coaster crap?

Becky raced in and came straight to me, putting her arms around my head.

'What's up, Niks?' she said.

'It doesn't matter' I muffled.

'Course it matters. Come on, tell aunty Becky.'

'I'm just stupid, that's all.'

'No you're not.'

'I am. I've got no life and no future there's nothing I can do there's no guy who'd want me well not one that I'd want and I'm still living at home and I get nervous over stupid things and I don't even have some major disease to blame it on so I'm just being silly and...' I blurted.

'Come on,' said Becky.

I cried. Not a pretty cry either; it was one of those cries where your mouth contorts into strange shapes and is draped by spit, where your eyes are so tightened you get more wrinkles than a ninety year-old woman.

Becky held me, comforted me, until the tears stopped. I felt like crying more but was too tired and numb.

I don't remember exactly what she said but she was really sweet. She told me how gorgeous I was. I think I told her she was my best friend. She kept mentioning something about New Year's. I nodded. I agreed with whatever she said.

We went back to work. The numbness continued. I wish it wasn't true but ignorance really is bliss. I wish I could go back to pretending that everything was fine and that I was happy. At least that lets you get through things. But it didn't seem to work any more. Sure, I could quit this job and then go...go where? There were times in the past where I thought I'd had enough of working here and tried to find a different job: I never even got an interview. Then things would settle down here and I wouldn't mind it again, at least enough to ignore it. I don't know if that's possible now. I'm stuck. I don't see any way out.

'Service!'

I slowly trudged out to the front counter once more...

© 2010 Ben Safta

 This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Australia License