Corporate Affair.

I had to get use to the fact that I was far from home and living in a big city such as L.A. Things here were extremely different; it was like being in another country. The way people dressed and presented themselves, to the great amount of wealth and poverty mixed in one. I was definitely not going to fit in. Well, at first anyway. I yearned to get out of the small town of Smithville, Texas. And Los Angeles, California seemed like the right place to start my own personal journey through life. I was sick of living a life that was expected of me; a life that was already planned out. Girls in my town married young and were starting their families at the ripe age of twenty.

I wasn’t ready to settle down yet; I wanted to spread my wings and experience what was out there before having to be fully committed to kids and a husband. I wanted a career and to take care of myself financially and physically. And the only way I was going to achieve that was by moving away to a place where I was able to. So I took a job as a secretary for an agency firm. It was something simple; filing papers and getting coffees. No it wasn’t what I strived to be all my life, but it was a start—above waiting tables at our local café. Things were going to change for me; I wasn’t sure for the best or worst, but I was willing to find out.


I hadn’t been on a plane before, so my nerves were a bit shot at first. But after a good thirty minutes of worrying to the point of biting all my nails off, I dozed off for a short, needed nap. And when I woke, the stuartist was announcing our landing; I was relieved that it was over. The seat I was in was uncomfortable to say in the least; and my neck was stiff from laying my head to the side.

I decided not to call my parents just yet. I’d wait till later; I wasn’t even close to being in the mood to hear their taunts and opinions. They weren’t supportive on my move what-so-ever. I indeed was a 100% alone on this venture. But it was fine with me, really.

I did though call a taxi and I used the newspaper I had gotten while waiting out front of L.A.X to look for some apartments near my work. But seeing as the apartments even remotely close to my job were the price of a newly built house, I chose to live on the outskirts, finding a place quickly that will be affordable and manageable in my budget.

The heat was something I was used to in Texas, but the humidity wasn’t. I felt like I was standing inside a steam room. My hair felt frizzy, I didn’t even need to look at it to tell. The nap of my neck was sticky from sweat and my clothes seemed to feel like they weighed a ton. A sluggish mood washed over me like a scorching tidal wave. At this point, all I desired to do was get this apartment chase over with and sleep. Though I was starving, the need of sleep overweighed an empty stomach.

With sticky sweat skin, and a growling belly, I waited for my ride, grateful when seeing a yellow car in the distance. I sighed, hoping this was my taxi, and not someone else. But when it pulled up six feet ahead of me, and no one seemed to jump the gun to get it, I hauled my luggage to the passenger side, where the driver got out to help with my bags. I thanked him, and got in the back, my face blessed with cool air. I settled down in the seat.

“Where to miss?” He asked, closing the door after him.

I grabbed my folded newspaper from my purse, reading the circled address.

“1609 Third Street Ferriday, please.”

He nodded and put the car in drive, pulling out of the airport. And as we drove, I admired the scenery; the tall palms and the bright sun against the blue sky. It was a nice day in Los Angeles. A perfect beach day; and soon, I’d be able to go down to the shore and tan. Sure I tanned in Texas, but it wasn’t the same. I didn’t have an ocean and sand. I would enjoy my tans here better than ever.

Upon arrival of my destination, I saw the complex was well taken care of. I even noticed a pool. The only thing left now was to see the inside, and confirm that this seemed like the right place. I paid the taxi driver a outrageous total of fifty-three dollars. I would take the bus to work, forget a taxi cab.

I made my way to the office, meeting an elderly lady behind the desk. She seemed rather thrilled with my presence and was ever so eager to show me around. I followed the stout woman with the salt and pepper hair to my first choice, a two bedroom and one bath. The inside wasn’t bad at all, it was the price that seemed to high. And when I told her of my financial situation, she was on her way again in leading me to a place she was sure I would like. And I did.
It was one bedroom and bath. The living room collided with the bedroom and kitchen, the bathroom being the only separate room. I didn’t mind much; it was just going to be me, and the cleaning would be to a minimal. I was content with my decision and I was able to rent the small up-kept studio apartment within my price range.

I was saving up money ever since my sophomore year in high school. So I had well enough to get me this place, pay a month’s rent in advance, buy a sufficient amount of furniture to get me by and new clothes for my job. Things were looking up. All I needed now was a bite to eat and good night’s sleep for tomorrow’s big day.