In a fit of angry self-pity, Mary peeled out of the parking lot and sped away from the airport in the car that her parents had let her keep, despite the fact that she had bought it on bad credit.
Merging onto the freeway, she pressed the gas pedal to the floor as her supervisor's parting words continued to chafe her like a hemorrhoid: "Mary, I'm sorry dear. You just don't get it." Well of course she didn't "get it". Had she ever "gotten it" before?
Had she "gotten it" that time when Mom and Dad sent her to Buffalo for all the stupid things she had been doing in Glenoak? Nope. Those final crazy, wasteful days in Glenoak, she had fooled herself into thinking she would be able to pull everything together. Her parents knew the truth though, and it was the same then as it appeared to be now: she just didn't "get it".
Nor did she "get it" when it came to Wilson. Proposing to him after he caught her hooking up with Ben was certainly a last-ditch move. The transparency of the effort had been obvious to him, but she had fooled herself into thinking it was the right thing to do at the time. She didn't "get it" then either.
Nope. Wilson had seen through her and realized she had feelings for Ben, that hunky, monosyllabic firefighter to whom she couldn't help but be animally attracted. And the feelings had been mutual; Ben had proposed to her. She recalled with disdain the flimsy reasons for turning him down that she had concocted. Really, how would starting a relationship with Ben have prevented her from pursuing her career and independence? Obviously, she had failed to "get it" then as well.
God, could she do anything right? Looking back at the past couple years, Mary realized it was just a trail of screw-ups – life choice screw-ups, relationship screw-ups, job screw-ups, screw-ups that had led her across the country more than once.
***
As she exited the freeway onto a boulevard, Mary glanced at her odometer and noted that it already read over thirty thousand miles. The car had traveled so far even though it was still fairly new. All those impulsive drives to and from Buffalo, and now to Fort Lauderdale, were adding up fast. She wondered at the folly of her many travels, and a slightly self-deriding sneer began to form on her lips.
"No more," she thought to herself as she changed lanes. "No more running wherever people tell me to go. No more running based on my own crazy impulses, or so-called 'love'.
"It's time for me to wake up and smell reality. And the reality is, I need money to pay the rent and feed myself, but I don't have a job. And I don't have any real skills. And I don't have much education, other than a high school diploma and a few random college classes. Nor do I have any real job experience other than some flight attendant training and some firefighter training. So in reality, I have about an equal shot of getting hired just about anywhere. Which is to say, not a very good shot at all." Her derisive sneer changed into a disillusioned frown.
As Mary pulled up to a stoplight, she closed her eyes to think things through. After a moment, a crazy and impulsive plot began to form in her head. She decided that she might as well act on it – even though just moments ago she had told herself that she would no longer do any such thing – because her situation was desperate. "Hmm. I have no good shot at getting hired anywhere, do I? Oh well. Since that's the case, then I might as well just walk into the next place I drive up to on the street and ask for a job application."
She smiled, trying to recapture some of that freewheeling self-confidence she had always brimmed with back in her high school days. "Yeah. As a matter of fact, that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to stop at the next place up the road, walk in, and fill out an application. Check that. I'm not only going to fill out an application; I'm going to get a job there."
Car horns began to honk behind her as the light turned green. Mary opened her eyes and stepped on the gas, passing through the intersection with renewed hope. After she had crossed, she flipped on her blinker and turned into the first establishment on the right, parking in front of the building.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," she said as she stepped out of her vehicle and took a good look at the giant sign atop the building entrance. Blinking in yellow neon on the left side of the sign, in profile, stood a tall, busty woman in a bikini. To the right of her, in pink neon, blinked the name of the establishment where, fateful moments ago, Mary had proclaimed she would get a job: The Foxxy Laydee.
Lifting her eyes heavenward, Mary sighed and queried, "Of all times to exhibit a sense of humor, why now?"