Moving Along at 4,613 Words

Things are still moving slowly-- I really need to pick up the pace if I'm going to wrap this up in 25,000 words. I was feeling particularly inspired today, thanks to a suggestion from Jill on how I could get my main character a job through a phone number in a bathroom stall. I'm really not sure why this is so central to my novel, but it's putting words on the page and I'm happy about that. For those of you who haven't been writing with me, Chloe met Fernando del Toro when she phoned his number that was written on the wall of the women's washroom at Jackie's Place. They started dating, and it really wasn't going well. I managed to get them together and break them up within the first 5,000 words.



They were having drinks at Jackie’s Place, as they often did after a particularly bad day at work. Chloe was temping as a clerical assistant, and was once again frustrated by a particularly strange coworker. Fernando was mad at his boss because he wasn’t smart enough to understand his postmodern interpretation of lawn ca(re). In fact, according to Fernando, no one was smart enough to understand him. Chloe thought that his article was stupid, but she didn’t dare tell him so.

It was really a statement about the state of their relationship that Chloe felt that the near-condemned bathroom at Jackie’s Place was respite from Fernando. But that day, when she was feeling particularly upset, she couldn’t help but notice that Fernando’s name and number had disappeared from the wall. In its place, it appeared as if someone had posted a job listing:

WANTED: an upstart and committed baker to work in a Yorkville bakery, no baking skills required. Apply to Juliet, 416-923-4921.

If she hadn’t been sure what kind of person would write their number on these walls looking for sex, she definitely wasn’t sure what kind of person would look for employees in this fashion. Chloe would never understand why she did what she did next. Even though the ceiling looked lower than ever and the last time she had done something similar it clearly hadn’t worked out, she decided to call the number, then and there. She clearly wasn’t one for learning from her own mistakes.

“Hello?” she heard on the other line after just one ring, which was lucky for her because she probably would have realized how stupid this was if she had waited any longer.

“Hi, is this Juliet?” Chloe said, feeling more unsure of herself with every second.

“Speaking,” Juliet responded, but not offering more.

“I’m phoning to inquire about the position of upstart and committed baker,” Chloe said in as professional of a tone that she could muster considering where she was.

“Oh,” Juliet said, obviously shuffling around. “And how did you hear about the position?”

“Uh,” Chloe stammered, wondering how to put it. “In the bathroom stall of Jackie’s Place?” She realized as she said it that it didn’t exactly sound promising. Truth be told, she probably should have realized that sooner.

“That’s what I was hoping to hear.”

“Really?”

“Strangely, yes,” Juliet laughed. “I used to advertise for jobs in the National Post, but I quickly realized that it would only attract assholes.”

Chloe liked her already.

“And you don’t think that people that apply for jobs while standing in a public bathroom are assholes?”

“Maybe they are—but they’re the right kind of asshole.” Chloe could hear Juliet smiling on the other end.

“I think you’ll quickly learn that I’m the right kind of asshole,” Chloe said boldly.

“That’s exactly what I’m looking for. When can you come in for an interview?”

“Well, I’m on a date with my boyfriend right now, and he’s an asshole, but definitely the wrong kind. What I’m trying to say is, I can be there in however long it takes to get from Jackie’s Place to your bakery.”

“That’s what I like to hear. I’m at the corner of Cumberland and Bellair.”

“I figure I can wrap things up here and be there in, oh, twenty minutes?”

“Tell Jackie I say hi.”

And with that, Chloe walked upstairs to be greeted by Fernando’s miserable face; a face that was probably about to get mad at her for spending too long in the bathroom or for making it too cold outside or for her lawn looking too modern instead of postmodern. Either way, she didn’t really want to give him the chance to say whatever self-aggrandizing and Chloe-shrinking thing that he was about to say.

“I have a job interview,” she said, picking up her coat without even sitting down.

“What?” he asked, perplexed.

“I am going to meet someone about a job.”

“How did you get a job interview in the past five minutes? You just said that you were going to the bathroom.”

“Um, don’t worry about it,” Chloe said awkwardly, not wanting to hear herself say exactly how it was that she had gotten herself a job interview from the bathroom of Jackie’s Place.

Fernando gave her a look of confusion mixed with contempt; it was a look that he had been giving her for far too long.

“And I won’t be coming back. Ever.”

She turned on her heel and walked out, never to see Fernando del Toro again. And that was the way she liked it.