Princess is No Name I Deserve

My first day of manual labor was actually pretty fun. It was only painting my room, but it was a first step in the right direction. Veta had promised me a month before I had to pay for any bills on my own, saying it would take a while before she expected I'd find a job. Little did she know about my employment history--or lack there of. Honestly I wasn't even sure where to start.

I looked at my light pastel purple room, wiping the sweat and paint from my brow. This is my new home where I can build something new. It was a thrilling thought at first, but now I had to figure out how to keep it.

"Can we go job hunting today?" I asked Veta. "I want you to come along. I don't really know where to go or where is hiring."

"What? Why? Just enjoy at least your first week. I barely work a day job, so we can spend at least a couple days together, right?" This confused me. I figured she'd want me to get a job immediately. "I mean, you can always sleep in my bed until we can get furniture for your room. Unless that bothers you?"

"No, that's fine," I answer, smiling, I thought about how this poor woman had no idea what she was getting into. I sleep in what I call "the rock climber" position. I have my arm under the pillow that supports my head, then I have another pillow curled under my other arm. My left leg always forms a 90 degree angle, my thigh perpendicular to my torso, my right leg straight down. Needless to say, I never shared a bed with anyone bigger than little chihuahua Carlos.

We ordered take-out and watched a little TV, not so much paying attention to the television as we were getting to know each other. The few times we've talked, there wasn't a lot of attention to our lives as much as me saying how much I wanted to get away from the mosquitoes and my absent mother.

"So," I start, thinking of a good conversation starter, "is there really much to do here?" I ask both out of genuine curiosity, but also in hopes for finding something that could later help with finding a job.

"Oh," she replies while slurping up so thoroughly sauced noodles, "there's tons. Let's see, there's the movies, bars, parades just about every other month, then you can always come to our concerts." She laughed to herself. "We need just about anyone we can bring in. There are just a few die-hard fans."

I wouldn't work in a movie theatre, seeing all the couples would probably depress me. I've heard about bars and how pushy the men can be. Can't work at a parade. Unless I magically gain a musical talent, my hopes of working with Veta are squashed. "How often do you guys play?" I ask to continue the conversation.

"Every couple weeks. We like to have some time off to regroup." Convo terminated. I imagine, were we talking online or texting, this would be one of the moments I pretending I didn't respond because I was busy. "Well, what did you do back home for fun?"

I couldn't very easily say I avoided the paparazzi. "Oh, you know, study, the usual. I didn't go to public school. I studied online, and of course, I'd probably get sidetracked, making a 30 minute assignment take about three hours," I give a genuine laugh, being kind of truthful with my answer. "Why don't you tell me more about the other roommate we have and the band members?" I should probably know what I'm getting into.

"As I said before, my boyfriend is in our band," she started. I got a sinking feeling I was going to hear a life story.

Basically, it went like this. Veta, my new best friend, was the rythm guitarist of this band called Thumb Tax. She did a little back up singing, but the main vocalist was Jonathan. The main guitarist was her boyfriend, Xander. The drummer was Loren. The bassist was Shawn.

Veta was the youngest member, and the lowest ranking as far as band decisions went, but she picked the name of the band. It was a pun. Thumb tax. Like, a thumb tack, but imagine if you were taxed on your thumbs. When she explained the brilliant silliness of it, she giggled insanely. Her energy was almost unmatched at shows.

Jonathan was the most absentee member. He only showed up at practice, the shows themselves, and the after parties. With not much commitment to the band, it wasn't much of a surprise when Veta told me he went through lovers like underwear. She wouldn't even use the term girlfriend when talking about the women he slept with, saying that would give them too much dignity for how he treated them. He did what he needed to do to keep the band going, I was assured.

The main guitarist, Xander was the leader of the band. The bookings, scheduling practice, song lineup, all was decided by Xander. Then she told me a bit about their love life I really didn't need to know.

Loren was the most energized. He was a goofy 22 year old who was always happy. She'd only seen him depressed once when he was in high school with Veta. He attempted suicide, went to the psych ward, but it was never mentioned when he came back, happy as he'd ever been. It was a topic to be avoided.

Lastly, there was Shawn. They'd been childhood friends, even "dated" when they were four. Of course, the four year-old version of dating was pretty much a game of you-show-me-yours-I-show-you-mine in the tree house, she explained. She was best friend with his twin sister Salem, who now lives somewhere on the other side of New York. Not much contact was kept with her. He still visits his parents now and again in his home town. Very laid-back and lovable, he's the peace keeper of the group.

"Let me show you my room," Veta said. It had been a long day, and now that the sun was hiding, it was time to probably get some rest.

The room was a bright pink, almost pepto bismol colored. Looking at it made me crave the stomach-settling medicine. She had a king bed covered with many purple cased pillows and a flowery purple comforter against the wall in a corner. Clothes strewn across the floor led a trail from the bed to the closet. The room had little decoration as far as furniture, but the walls were covered in various things. Concert tickets, autographed band shirts, and framed pictures of friends, it all actually looked like it had some sort of pattern to it. I would eventually have to have her point out people in her pictures to me.

I took the outter part of the bed, so at least, if I squished or kicked her, she could wake me up as opposed to me gradually forcing her out of her own bed even with it's large size.

Stopping in the doorway, Veta gave me strange look. "You're really wearing day clothes to bed?"

Never really thinking of pajamas, I hadn't bought any when I was thinking of what "normal" people were. "I, uh, kind of forgot to bring any."

"It's okay, baby sis," she said. "I have a lot of pajamas." Opening a drawer of the dresser, the only other piece of real furniture besides the bed, she threw a very over-sized Ramones shirt to me. When she closed it, I looked at her blankly for a moment. "I just wear T-shirts and underwear to bed."

I changed while blushing. This was an informality I didn't even share with my own mother. I was always being watched. So I suppose it made since that I rarely left my own bathroom at home without being fully dressed and ready for my picture to be taken, hoping it wouldn't.

"You're so cute," she said stripping off her clothes. She crawled into bed with me after switching off the light. "Don't worry, I won't molest you in your sleep."