You probably know me as the Day Care Man. The man in the green overalls who stands outside the Day Care's picket fence as you ride back and forth on your bicycle past the Battle Chateau, waiting for me to turn around with an egg. Sometimes you ask me about your Pokemon, whether they are happy, or are getting along, or whether my wife had to put them into separate cages. But have you ever wondered who I am, or how I became the Day Care Man? It's quite the story, I'll tell you!
But first you have to realize what it's like to be a talentless trainer. I'll admit it now, despite the years I spent trying to prove myself. Always trying, always failing. You, the star trainer who got all eight badges in a number of weeks, who beat the Elite Four on your first try. You probably never even thought about the grown man on Route 3 with the single Metapod, who you blitzed past with a single move your first day on the road. That was me, ten years ago, trying to make my way as a trainer.
Talented trainers get all the attention, as I've said before. When I found myself waking up at my mom's house over and over, not even being able to get to the first Pokemon Center in my neighbourhood, no one wanted to help me. Not when there were other eleven-year-olds with exceptional talent out there. Eventually, I realized it wasn't going to work out, I decided to look for another job. Something that didn't rely on my ability to throw Pokeballs with excellent aim, or make quick decisions under pressure.
My first job was at the Hotel Richissime. Like everything else, it didn't work out. I started off making beds, which was good, but eventually I wasn't fast enough, so they moved me to doing room service. That was fine for a while, as well, but as the hotel got more popular, and there were more and more orders, and eventually I couldn't remember them all. Then, I worked in the lost and found, which was great, until an important dignitary came to visit, and lost her Ship in a Bottle. I ran around really fast trying to find it, but unfortunately in a panic, I stepped on it. Completely mortified, I apologized to the woman, but it was too late. The hotel manager took me outside and told me I was fired.
After that, I started working for the Massage Woman in Cyllage City. Like me, she was eventually doomed to become nameless based on her profession, but back then she was known as Karen. She loved to massage Pokemon, but it made her arms really tired. She was so pleased to have an assistant. She even let me live in her spare bedroom and paid me a small salary out of the Pokemon Conservation Grant she received for performing her massage services. It was relaxing work, but I had the same problem I had when I was a trainer. Pokemon, especially large ones, don't really like me. When Karen was around, they would always be perfectly calm, but as soon as I was alone, they would start to act anxious. Karen said it was a body language thing, if I acted more relaxed, they would calm down, but it never seemed to help.
That said, my massages always seemed to make the Pokemon at least slightly more friendly, until one fateful day when someone came in with a Mawile while Karen was out shopping. It seemed cute, and I started doing effleurage down its back when it suddenly turned around and started snapping its teeth in my face. I moved away quickly, but it lunged towards me, and in a few more steps I was backed into the corner. It moved closer, growling and nipping at my pant legs, and eventually tore one off. I sank even further back into the corner, and thankfully discovered there was a broom behind me. I grabbed it and started beating the Mawile away, which was when Karen came in.
"What are you doing!" she yelled, dropping her groceries. Of course, with Karen's presence, the Mawile immediately returned to its calm demeanor.
"Hitting Pokemon with brooms makes them so much less friendly," she hissed under her breath.
"But it attacked me!" I said, pointing to my torn pants. Karen's a really nice lady, so she stood there deliberating a bit. Eventually she said calmly,
"Have you ever considered that Pokemon massage might not be the career for you?"
I left Karen's house a few days later. I had decided that I was young and hip, and should check out the scene in Lumoise City. Great fashion, great food, stylish women, who could go wrong? At the very least, I would be able to acquire a fashionable new pair of pants. But when I got there, everything was more expensive than I imagined. Three hundred Pokedollars for a coffee! Ridiculous. I ended up working long hours at Restaurant Le Yeah just to be able to afford to share a one bedroom apartment with three other dishwashers. And let me tell you, working at a place like that is not what you expect. Everything has to be perfect. Once, the owner Yannick came up to me and complained about my work, and you would not believe why! A few times, customers had come into the back, and each time I had said different things.
"We need every employee to stand in exactly the same spot, and say exactly the same thing," he said, "Consistency is very important to our customers"
At that point, I decided I was fed up. I quit my job, and pretty soon I was living in a tent like I had when I was a trainer. But I didn't care, I was my own man, and every moment was my own. So what if I spent most of my days scavenging for shards to sell to the Pokemon Center so I could afford potions. At least I didn't have to listen to that idiot Yannick.
This went on a for a few months until the summer, when it became warm, and I decided it wasn't worth pitching my tent anymore, and started spending my nights on a bench in front of the Pokemon Center (the small back-alley one, not the central Lumiose City one). This actually wasn't unusual, on hot days, you would seen groups of young men sleeping on the pavement. It was the ultimate sign of trainer dedication, not being willing to leave the Pokemon Center, even to sleep. It was actually a bit inspiring, talking to all these young trainers, hearing about their successes and failures. It made me almost want to get back into the trainer game again.
That's when I met Mara.