\u201cWhatever. I think it\u2019s cool,\u201d Mara said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMe too!\u201d Melissa said. \u201cYou have to be excited. You can\u2019t act too cool for this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Parth wore a smile he couldn\u2019t take off, kept his head hung. He kept sipping his coffee, even though Mara suspected the cup was long empty. He\u2019d look out the window quickly, then back at them, then back at the table. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
They were at the cafe where Melissa worked, finishing bagels and a coffee and reaming Parth out for waiting until minute 22 of Melissa\u2019s half hour lunch break to tell them that WaveRace97 had asked Crystal Lake Counselors to open their upcoming show at Alewives. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s not like anything changes for us,\u201d Parth said. \u201cIt\u2019s not like we\u2019re going on tour, it\u2019s not like we suddenly have, whatever, a record deal or whatever.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOkay,\u201d Mara said. \u201cBut they\u2019re probably bringing a big audience of people that have never heard of you, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah, but\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOkay, then,\u201d Mara cut him off. \u201cTake the W.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSeriously,\u201d Melissa said. \u201cIt\u2019s fucking thrilling<\/em> for you guys. I\u2019ll be enthusiastic if you won\u2019t. Life\u2019s all full of murder and death and depressing shit and you can\u2019t be excited about booking a sick show? I\u2019ll be excited. Speaking of murder, Mara? Where\u2019s your first interview?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSpeaking of murder?\u201d Mara asked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWithout that murder, you wouldn\u2019t be looking for a job, yeah?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mara rolled her eyes. \u201cIt\u2019s just down the street. I need to go, though.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd I need to work,\u201d Melissa said. \u201cMara, good luck. Parth, go get high and walk on the beach or something. Day drink. Celebrate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Down the street was the first of three interviews, somehow. Weeks of applications ignored, then three interviews on the same day. Job searching sucked. Parth walked her to the end of the block, then found the Crystal Lake Counselors\u2019 van. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou about that van life now?\u201d she asked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWoman with no job judges my car, wow,\u201d Parth said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Mara laughed at him and looked in his eyes, trying to gauge how real his flirting was. Tried to signal how real it was for her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n A car slammed on its brakes, screeching to a stop. A chorus of horns broke out, then yelling. The air was made of horns and yelling, but Mara and Parth couldn\u2019t see anyone hurt or any cars damaged. Then, as quickly as the chaos started, it disappeared. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOkay,\u201d Mara said. \u201cWish me luck.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n At the first interview, a tryhard spot advertising \u201cclassic American farm-to-table fare\u201d and furnished with a whole forest\u2019s worth of glazed wood, Mara tried to focus on the front of house manager. She was pleasant and friendly, with cute glasses, but she gave the game away. She kept glancing over her shoulder at the bar. At the bar was a white-haired man in a bright blue polo shirt who looked like he golfed every brunch shift. He had books open, plus an adding machine, plus a glass of red wine that the bartender wouldn\u2019t let him see the bottom of. The front of house manager said she\u2019d be in touch, but Mara didn\u2019t care. She knew a fiefdom when she saw one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n At the second interview, a not quite-sports bar, the GM kept slipping in and out of a phony high-class lilt, like he was putting on airs, but they were both in on the joke. None of this is that serious<\/em>, he seemed to be saying, one time even doing a cringey British accent and calling her dahhhhhling<\/em>. His real accent seemed to be a brassy Midwestern. He wore a black short-sleeved button down with gray chest hair peeking over the open second button and a gold stud in one ear. When Mara looked at the servers, there seemed to be no uniform, but everyone was in tight t-shirts or tanks and absurdly short shorts. On top of that, it was clear that Mara\u2014at the ripe old age of 23\u2014would be the oldest server there. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Fun, flirty<\/em>, Mara tried to command her body. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Instead, images of blood and bodies and caution tape and the aura of police lights danced through her head. She thought about all the serial killers she\u2019d learned about who had been outwardly upstanding business owners. She thought about all the serial killers she\u2019d learned about who had been cops. Before she knew it, the aspiring silver fox said we\u2019ll be in touch<\/em>, and Mara felt her feet propelling her body out of the restaurant a little too fast. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n The third place, this diner called Olly\u2019s, Mara couldn\u2019t remember if she\u2019d been there before or not. She walked in at 3:30 and the place was empty, save for an elderly man sipping coffee at a booth in the corner. Behind the host stand was a black-and-white framed photograph of a Black man and a young Latino man with a thick black mustache. OLLY & MART\u00cdN, read a hand-written caption under the picture. Something about the picture nudged Mara\u2019s memory. She was certain now that she\u2019d been here before, at least for breakfast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A man who looked like a 30-years-older version of the Latino man in the photograph emerged from the kitchen. \u201cSit anywhere you like,\u201d he smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cActually, are you Mart\u00edn? I\u2019m Mara, I have an interview.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh!\u201d Mart\u00edn wiped his brow and shook his head, faked a heart attack. \u201cWhen did it become 3:40? Well. I guess you\u2019re a little early. Have a seat here at Table 14, and I\u2019ll be right back.\u201d He smiled and disappeared into the kitchen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n After those first two interviews, Mara\u2019s anxiety had evaporated. Shit was crazy out here. If she got a job, she got a job. If she didn\u2019t, she and her sick mom would just become street punks. Whatever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mart\u00edn started in on the usual get-to-know-you boilerplate, laying out the what we do here<\/em> while listening along to the trials and travails of Mara\u2019s previous employment. As it was happening, Mara felt herself relaxing, like she was catching up with a friendly uncle she hadn\u2019t seen in years. Before long, Mart\u00edn was rapping his manila folder on the table. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell, listen,\u201d Mart\u00edn said. \u201cTo be honest, we need the help. You\u2019ve got an excellent resum\u00e9. You\u2019re the first person to apply with both hosting and serving experience.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat\u2019s, wow.\u201d Mara said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo I should have a longer interview with you, I should ask a bunch of detailed stuff. But look: can you handle busy shifts without getting all worked up? Are you gonna steal money?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes to the first one and no to the second one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGreat. Can you start Wednesday?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mara smiled with her whole body. Whatever fuck it<\/em> attitude she\u2019d felt about this interview melted. She had a good feeling about Olly\u2019s. If Melissa were here, she\u2019d say the universe is putting you in this diner for a reason<\/em>. That\u2019s what Melissa would say, because Melissa was silly, but in a way that Mara didn\u2019t mind keeping in her back pocket. <\/p>\n\n\n\n As she stood to leave, a white cook came out of the kitchen. He wore a skullcap over pushed-back hair and had that underfed young chef look. Lengthy neck, lanky but wire-muscled arms, slightly too-intense eyes. Mara wondered vaguely if whatever drugs he was into kept him skinny, or if he got so hyper-focused on cooking that he forgot to feed himself. Either could be possible. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMart\u00edn, man, these guys gotta be able to get the basics right,\u201d the cook said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI know, Tommy, I know,\u201d Mart\u00edn said. \u201cHey, I\u2019m finishing up an interview. You wanna go get a smoke? Or you don\u2019t smoke? I can never remember with you, guero!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The cook said something that Mara couldn\u2019t make out. He turned to walk down the hall back towards the kitchen, or maybe the back door, if he was smoking. Mara found she couldn\u2019t help but watch him leave. Something about him had felt different than the rest of Olly\u2019s. Different from Mart\u00edn, different even from the energy that the walls gave off. The energy that the walls gave off<\/em>. Now who sounds like Melissa? <\/p>\n\n\n\n What was that phrase Melissa had said about Lilypad? Echo of evil<\/em>? Mara wasn\u2019t sure about all that\u2014the vibes were good at Olly\u2019s. That strung-out white cook, though. Was his name Tommy? She was pretty sure that\u2019s what Mart\u00edn said. Tommy seemed like he had something<\/em> echoing around his head. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThanks again,\u201d she said to Mart\u00edn. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSee you Wednesday!\u201d he called, looking even more like a dad now that Mara had witnessed him expertly redirecting a cook\u2019s tantrum. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was barely after four when she stepped into the white light of the afternoon. She had a job, and started soon. Relief crept through her body like a teenager successfully sneaking home after curfew. It wasn\u2019t like they\u2019d be dining at Trencherman or Girl And The Goat or anything, but with her and her mom working? They could eat every day, have heat in the winter and AC in the summer. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Mara got on a northbound bus, crossing the Uptown border into Andersonville. There was a sidewalk sale on Clark Street. The street was closed for four blocks, all the businesses spilling out onto the walkways and the people taking over the streets. Parth and Gareth were already there. Gareth showed off some zines he\u2019d picked up, and told Mara what she wanted to hear: that the 7-inch bin at Rattleback Records was teeming. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Parth said he wanted to keep hanging out, but he needed some caffeine. The three of them ducked into a caf\u00e9 and ordered cortados. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHey Gareth,\u201d Mara said. \u201cWill you admit that opening for WaveRace97 and having a bunch of people who\u2019ve never heard your music before see you perform is a cool thing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cShe thinks I\u2019m not excited,\u201d Parth said. \u201cObviously, it\u2019s exciting.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAw, is my guy bad at showing his feelings?\u201d Gareth asked. \u201cThat\u2019s the problem with us men. All we ever are is horny or raging, right? Or should I not talk about feelings and horniness around you two?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mara and Parth pretended they didn\u2019t know what Gareth meant, each performing for the other. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo I got that job,\u201d Mara said. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cWhatever. I think it\u2019s cool,\u201d Mara said. \u201cMe too!\u201d Melissa said. \u201cYou have to be excited. You can\u2019t act too cool for this.\u201d Parth wore a smile he couldn\u2019t take […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":162657629,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[168],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-162657671","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-behind-with-knife"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.lazyandentitled.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/162657671","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.lazyandentitled.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.lazyandentitled.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.lazyandentitled.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.lazyandentitled.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=162657671"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.lazyandentitled.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/162657671\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":162657676,"href":"https:\/\/www.lazyandentitled.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/162657671\/revisions\/162657676"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.lazyandentitled.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/162657629"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.lazyandentitled.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=162657671"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.lazyandentitled.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=162657671"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.lazyandentitled.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=162657671"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}