You Had Me at "I Hate You"
02
"Get out!"
"Mr. Ling, you can't evict me!" I protested. "Where will I go?"
"Not my problem," the angry Asian man grunted, gesticulating wildly towards the door.
"Mr. Ling!" I whined.
"Out!"
"But... But..."
"No! I gave you one week's notice, three weeks ago! You are the worst tenant I have ever had! Loud music, paint on the walls, and a general obnoxious attitude!"
"But... But..."
"Not to mention that you are three months behind on the rent!"
"Aw, come on! Cut a girl a break! I'm a struggling journalist!" I called angrily up the stairs. "I don't have any money to go anywhere else!"
"Out!" came his final reply. He stomped down the stairs and shoved me roughly out through the front door.
The night was fast approaching. I could taste it in the air, cold and sickly sweet. Purple clouds covered the sky, tinting everything a hazy shade of blue.
"Mr. Ling!" I pleaded desperately. "Mr. Ling, get back here! What am I supposed to do? Sleep on a park bench?"
Silence.
"Hey!" I growled, clenching my hands into fists. "What about my stuff?!"
The door popped open again, and I caught a glimpse of a fuming Mr. Ling as he flung a giant suitcase at my feet. I picked it up and slung one of the straps over my shoulder. The harsh cloth material rubbed angrily at my skin.
Fuming, I managed to run up the entire block without pausing for breath. My fury fueled me, pushing me forward, burning at my chest. I finally had to stop and catch my breath. It was a while before I could collect my thoughts and act rationally again. Phone. I needed to find a pay phone.
I continued walking until I reached the apartments near the local college. I remembered seeing a payphone near the campus grocery store a block or two up. I trudged on, warily keeping an eye out for any downtown predators that my mother kept calling to warn me about.
The streets were practically empty, a rarity for a busy city like this. A lazy Saturday night was all I asked for - and I get evicted. I sighed, cursing my luck for all I was worth. Suddenly, a car came around the corner, screeching on it's worn brakes. I narrowly avoided it, jumping back onto the curb.
"Watch it!" I called after the car. "I've just had a very bad day! I don't need to be killed on top of it!"
"Hey!" one of the tenants from the apartment building across the street stuck his mop-like head through his window. "Shut the hell up, would you?"
I scowled and made a rude, one-fingered gesture at the guy in the window. "Sit on it and spin, dick-wad!"
He withdrew his head and slammed the window shut.
My face was flushed with anger, and I could tell the my bright red hair was all frizzed up from sleep. I must look like a firecracker.
I dragged my heavy suitcase over towards the pay-phone next to the grocery store and began to dial a number I never thought I'd need again.
My mother's.
-_-_-_-_-
"Well, I hate to say I told you so... But..."
"I know Ma," I sighed. "But I'm in a real jam. I'd appreciate it if we could skip the lecture."
"What did I tell you? What did I say? I said that journalism was no sort of career for a young lady!"
"I know Ma! Please! Could you just come and pick me up?"
I heard my mother sigh on the other end of the line.
"Fine," was her reply.
I heard a sharp click, and I knew my mom was on her way.
"Mr. Ling, you can't evict me!" I protested. "Where will I go?"
"Not my problem," the angry Asian man grunted, gesticulating wildly towards the door.
"Mr. Ling!" I whined.
"Out!"
"But... But..."
"No! I gave you one week's notice, three weeks ago! You are the worst tenant I have ever had! Loud music, paint on the walls, and a general obnoxious attitude!"
"But... But..."
"Not to mention that you are three months behind on the rent!"
"Aw, come on! Cut a girl a break! I'm a struggling journalist!" I called angrily up the stairs. "I don't have any money to go anywhere else!"
"Out!" came his final reply. He stomped down the stairs and shoved me roughly out through the front door.
The night was fast approaching. I could taste it in the air, cold and sickly sweet. Purple clouds covered the sky, tinting everything a hazy shade of blue.
"Mr. Ling!" I pleaded desperately. "Mr. Ling, get back here! What am I supposed to do? Sleep on a park bench?"
Silence.
"Hey!" I growled, clenching my hands into fists. "What about my stuff?!"
The door popped open again, and I caught a glimpse of a fuming Mr. Ling as he flung a giant suitcase at my feet. I picked it up and slung one of the straps over my shoulder. The harsh cloth material rubbed angrily at my skin.
Fuming, I managed to run up the entire block without pausing for breath. My fury fueled me, pushing me forward, burning at my chest. I finally had to stop and catch my breath. It was a while before I could collect my thoughts and act rationally again. Phone. I needed to find a pay phone.
I continued walking until I reached the apartments near the local college. I remembered seeing a payphone near the campus grocery store a block or two up. I trudged on, warily keeping an eye out for any downtown predators that my mother kept calling to warn me about.
The streets were practically empty, a rarity for a busy city like this. A lazy Saturday night was all I asked for - and I get evicted. I sighed, cursing my luck for all I was worth. Suddenly, a car came around the corner, screeching on it's worn brakes. I narrowly avoided it, jumping back onto the curb.
"Watch it!" I called after the car. "I've just had a very bad day! I don't need to be killed on top of it!"
"Hey!" one of the tenants from the apartment building across the street stuck his mop-like head through his window. "Shut the hell up, would you?"
I scowled and made a rude, one-fingered gesture at the guy in the window. "Sit on it and spin, dick-wad!"
He withdrew his head and slammed the window shut.
My face was flushed with anger, and I could tell the my bright red hair was all frizzed up from sleep. I must look like a firecracker.
I dragged my heavy suitcase over towards the pay-phone next to the grocery store and began to dial a number I never thought I'd need again.
My mother's.
-_-_-_-_-
"Well, I hate to say I told you so... But..."
"I know Ma," I sighed. "But I'm in a real jam. I'd appreciate it if we could skip the lecture."
"What did I tell you? What did I say? I said that journalism was no sort of career for a young lady!"
"I know Ma! Please! Could you just come and pick me up?"
I heard my mother sigh on the other end of the line.
"Fine," was her reply.
I heard a sharp click, and I knew my mom was on her way.