I’m not sure what Ashlyn did with all of her free time. She apparently only took part time jobs, and in-between those jobs she apparently window shopped, partied and went clubbing.
Worse, she really needed to work. All of her credit cards are maxed out, and she is in major debt. Digging through her “files” which consisted of just a cardboard box filled with random receipts and payment stubs; I got the impression that she may not have ever paid her taxes. I got this impression mostly from the stacks of threatening letters from the IRS.
Her checking account has 39 dollars in it. I guess I should be thrilled it is not over-drawn. I don’t know how she planned on paying her rent—I had to use a big hunk of the moneys I took out of the Jake Mathews account to pay that and the late fees. She also has student’s loans to pay off—not that she finished school, she dropped out of college her sophomore year.
She—I am in a financial mess.
I’m not sure what to do about this. I have to live Ashlyn’s life with frame of mind that this might be forever—so I have to fix this mess.
I remembered the voicemail with a job, so I called back Mike with the radio station. He still wanted Ashlyn for the job Sunday, so I got as much info about the job as I could. Basically it consisted of wearing an outfit provided by the radio station and passing out 2007 calendars to people as they entered Gillette stadium to see the Patriots game. It sounded like brainless work, and I could only imagine what the “outfit” would look like. I had seen girls at radio promotions before; they were always scantily dressed. I was about to turn him down, when he told me what he was willing to pay for just a few hours of work. I was stunned—it was a lot of money to just stand around and pass out calendars.
As we were talking on the phone I booted up the Mac notebook and looked up the radio station on the internet. I found pictures of old events on the site and a few with “promotion girls”. The outfit consisted of “short shorts”, heels, and a tiny t-shirt with the logo of the radio station plastered across the front.
He then told me he would pay me in cash at the end of the game—I swallowed my pride and told him I would take the job.
He told me when and where to be on Sunday, and to come by the station on Friday to pick up my outfit. He also said there would a “hair and makeup guy” on location because they planned on getting a little coverage for the Boston news. He said if I wanted my makeup done, to show up a couple of hours early.
I hung up the phone and spent the rest of the day practicing walking around in heels. It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be, and I move fairly well as long as I avoided stairs and walked slowly.
On Friday I went to one of the branches of the City of Cambridge Library to do more research on “magic” “body-swapping” and “weird phenomenon in Maine”. I also got a library card—Ashlyn didn’t have one. I checked out books on hairstyles and applying makeup. I skimmed the books for a while at the house, and then did a little job hunting online. The plan was to find work that doesn’t involve wearing skimpy outfits. I quickly learned I was in trouble. Ashlyn had no job history to speak of—so it was beginning to look like a receptionist or a waitress job.
Only I can’t type. You would think a guy who spends as much time on a computer as I did would have learned to type—but it never came to me. I’m more of a mouse guy.
So that really only left being a waitress. I told myself it was only until I could get enough monies together to buy a computer and the software I needed. I would then start building a portfolio and get into freelance graphics.
A few depressing hours of job hunting later, I felt I needed to get out of the house again. Both Logan and Billie were in the house today, and they both felt a need to chat me up. I couldn’t walk anywhere in the house without a “Hey, Ash, what’s with you and Joss?” or “Does this top look good on me?” The final straw was when I was alone in the kitchen with Logan. He gives me a look and says “Ever since you got back from your trip, you’ve been so serious Ash, is everything okay?” I fake a big smile and tell him everything is alright. He says he doesn’t believe me, and then walks up very close to me, and leans down, putting his face near mine. I froze thinking he was about to kiss me—but I would be wrong.
He reached out and began to tickle me. Within moments he had me down on the floor, screeching with laughter, begging him to stop. I was at his complete mercy, not nearly strong enough to make him stop. I very nearly peed myself. Eventually he does stop, gives me a “friendly” kiss on the top of the head and leaves me lying on the floor exhausted. “Cheer up Ash,” he says leaving the room, “Things will get better soon, a girl as hot as you won’t go without a boyfriend long.” The moment I recover, I jump up and exit the house.
I caught the “T” (what people call the subway here) into Boston. I walked around Boston, getting the feel for the city. For the geographically challenged reading this blog, the cities of Boston and Cambridge border each other—they are separated by the river Charles.
I then stopped by the radio station and picked up my uniform for Sunday. I went home, took a bath, and shaved my legs—I had been putting it off. I wanted to “test drive” the outfit from the radio station, to try it on and see if I had the nerve to wear it in front of people. To do that I needed freshly shaved legs.
I slip on the outfit and looked into the mirror. Yep, the outfit didn’t hide much--tight little shirt that left my middle exposed and shorts that looked painted on. I used my some of the things I learned from the library books and did my hair and makeup.
I stepped out of my room and caught Logan and Dean playing games on the xbox .
Both men stopped and gave a look. “What do you think?” I asked, and gave them a little spin.
They both gave me big goofy grins. “You look hot!”
I sat down between them and announced I had the next game.
After a while I forgot what I looked like, and what I was dressed like, and started to have a good time. It was almost like I was one of the guys--except when I caught them checking me out when they thought I was not looking.
I decided I could survive the job on Sunday.
I’ll have to get into Sunday’s antics later. Right now I need to stop writing this blog and head out and find a job as a waitress.