"Sam, look at this!"
"What is it?" Samantha hurried through the narrow aisles of the little shop to where her husband was gesticulating excitedly.
"An original German bisque Kewpie doll from 1912. Isn't that something? Do you think we should get it for Tabatha?"
Samantha stared. "It looks like it's going to murder me in my sleep."
"Aw, come on."
It was Sunday morning. Samantha, Darrin, and Tabatha had gone out for a walk in town after breakfast and eventually wound up in a little antique shop, just to look around.
"Tabatha likes it. See? She's smiling," Darrin continued, picking up the Kewpie doll and showing it to their grinning two-year-old. Samantha was holding her because there were no strollers allowed inside the shop. Tabatha laughed.
"Head funny!"
But Sam still wasn't having it.
"Nuh-uh." She shook her head. Darrin shrugged and put the doll down.
"Oh, Darrin, look!" Samantha rushed across to the other side of the room, where an ancient movie poster sat propped against the wall in a rickety frame. "It's Charlie Chaplin!"
Darrin came over and took a look at the poster. It was for a silent film called A Dog's Life and showed Charlie Chaplin, made-up in the face as ever, sitting on a brick step with a white mutt at his side.
"Now, that's what's creepy," Darrin said, "Guy wears so much make-up, he looks like a creepy girl."
"Imagine that in our bedroom! Right over the bed! Whaddya think?" Sam teased.
"No way. I'm afraid he would murder me in my sleep."
"Just kidding," she laughed, "Now, what do you say we get out of here and keep walking? Tabatha's getting a bit antsy."
"Yeah, let's go."
They were on the way out when Darrin stopped in front of a stack of old records.
"Would you look at that!" he said. He picked up the record on the top of the stack and read the title out loud. "The Heavy Heifers' Greatest Hits. Holy cow, they don't make these anymore!"
Samantha raised an eyebrow. "The Heavy Heifers?"
"Yeah!" Darrin went on excitedly, "The Heavy Heifers were the leading ladies of jazz back in the 1920s. My dad used to collect their records. They were so popular back in the day that even the King of England insisted they do a private concert for him at Buckingham Palace."
"I never heard of them."
"YOU NEVER HEARD OF THE HEAVY HEIFERS?!" Darrin screeched passionately, making Samantha jump and Tabatha burst out crying. Sam gave him a dirty glare as she jiggled and patted her crying toddler.
Looking embarrassed, Darrin flashed her an apologetic grin. "Oh, um. Sorry. Hehe. You never heard of the Heavy Heifers?" he asked in a normal tone.
"No," Samantha said, "Mother and I were still living in Tibet at the time and jazz wasn't really a big thing there, so..."
"Oh. Oh, I see." Darrin turned his attention back to the record. "Oh, my gosh! Look! It's even signed by the four original Heavy Heifers themselves! How much are these things? Three dollars each? That's it, I'm buying it!"
But when Darrin went up to the counter and tried to hand over the three dollars for the record, the antique store guy shook his head.
"Uh-uh," he said, "This one here's a special record. The special records cost a hundred bajillion dollars each."
And so Darrin gave up and succumbed to the fact that he could never afford to become the proud owner of The Heavy Heifers' Greatest Hits.
But as they exited the shop and continued their stroll down the sidewalk, the wheels in Samantha's brain where already turning. Darrin's birthday was just two months away. Wouldn't it just make his day if he received the autographed Heavy Heifers' Greatest Hits as a birthday present? She knew she didn't have enough money to buy it herself, but what if she worked for it? What if she earned it? With excitement, she pictured the look on Darrin's face when he received his present, and that was all the motivation she needed. She was getting a job.
...
"Alright, Aunt Clara! I'm going job-hunting!" Samantha announced the next morning, sprinting down the stairs in her smartest outfit and her nicest coat, purse in hand. Aunt Clara was sitting on the living room carpet in front of the fireplace with Tabatha. They were playing with blocks.
It was a mere half hour after Darrin had left for work, and Samantha was all ready to go out and start looking for a job. She had wanted to do this in secret, without Darrin knowing, just to add to the surprise when he received his Heavy Heifers album on his birthday. When he found out she'd bought it all with money she'd earned entirely on her own... Oh, wouldn't he be proud?! Samantha felt happy butterflies in her stomach just thinking about it.
Aunt Clara had agreed to babysit Tabatha every day this week until her niece found a job. Sam hadn't dared ask her mother to babysit this time, let alone tell her what she was doing, because she knew Endora would think this whole earning-money-for-Durweed's present thing was stupid and would probably stop her from doing it. Fortunately, Clara had said it'd be no trouble at all, since she had nothing better to do. She'd just had a fight with her boyfriend Ocky and now Ocky wasn't speaking to her. Spending time with her little grand-niece was just the balm her heart needed.
"How do I look? Hirable? Do you think they'll take me seriously?" Samantha asked her aunt, opening up her coat and showing her the outfit she'd chosen. Clara assured her that yes, she looked very sharp, and that if she were the one doing the hiring, she'd hire Samantha in an instant.
"Ah! Now, w-wait a moment," the little old witch said all of a sudden, "Before you leave, there's something I'd like to give you." She went over to her bag, which was sitting on the coffee table, fumbled around through it for a moment, then pulled out a rusty, archaic-looking doorknob. She handed it to Sam. "My lucky doorknob," she explained, "I took it from Blarney Castle in Ireland in 1307. I-it always b-brings me luck, so I think you should keep it for today. K-keep it with you."
"Oh, Aunt Clara, it's..." Samantha struggled for a word to describe the rusty doorknob, "It's beautiful. I'll take good care of it. I promise."
She tucked the doorknob into her purse and clasped her hands together. "Well, I'd best be on my way. I left you some lunch in the fridge. Tabatha can have the leftover pasta from yesterday. The extra diapers are under the bathroom sink, and if she asks for her favorite blanket, it's in the wash right now."
She hugged Aunt Clara and thanked her again, gave Tabatha a hug and kiss. "Be good for Aunt Clara. I'll be back in the afternoon."
With that, she was out the door.
As she walked down the porch steps, she repeated her last exchange with Clara and Tabatha in her mind. The extra diapers are under the bathroom sink, her favorite blanket is in the wash. Be good for Aunt Clara. I'll be back this afternoon. Ha! Wasn't it great? She was a true working woman!
...
The first establishment Samantha stopped at on her hunt for a job that day was the nearby In-N-Out.
"Well, as a matter of fact, we do have an opening for a job right now," said the In-N-Out manager when Samantha confronted him in his office, "Travis over there," he pointed at a bean pole of a kid with red hair and an acne problem who was angrily stuffing his uniform into a locker, "Just quit. D'you think you can take over his job?"
"I DUNNO, BERT! SHE LOOKS LIKE A TYPICAL DUMB BLONDE TO ME!" Samantha heard someone yell. It took all the restraint she had to not twitch that nose and make whoever it was fall on their face.
"SHUT UP, REGGIE! She can't be any dumber than YOU!" the manager bellowed. Then he turned back to Sam. "Now, do you think you can stand in the drive-thru line and take orders there?"
"Oh! Oh, yes, sir!" Samantha replied eagerly.
"Great. You can start today."
And that was how Samantha found herself standing in a strip mall parking lot in an In-N-Out uniform, holding a clip board and pencil and waiting for the cars to start filing in. She glanced back at the clock on the wall in the outdoor seating area. It was only a few minutes till half-past ten. The restaurant opened at 10:30 (A bit early for lunch, wouldn't you say, Sam thought). It was almost time. A couple more minutes passed, and bam! Here came the cars, right on cue.
Samantha walked up to the first car in the line, waited for the driver to roll down his window, then said the words the manager had coached her to say earlier.
"Hello, welcome to In-N-Out. What can I get started for you today?"
Only, the guy in the car didn't answer. He just stared. His eyes narrowed. His neck stretched forward like an ostrich. He didn't look happy. Sam started to get nervous.
"Wait a minute!" he finally yelled after several tense seconds, "You're not Travis! Travis always takes my order! GET OUT OF HERE!"
Apparently, this guy had just gone shopping, for he grabbed a sixteen-pack of eggs from his backseat and flung it at Sam with the kind of force only acheived by a man denied his favorite In-In-Out order taker. The egg carton opened up midair and hit Sam square in the face.
She was immediately fired for upsetting customers.
The next day, Tuesday, Samantha did the same thing all over again. She waited for Darrin to leave, left Tabatha at home in the care of Aunt Clara, and set out on her second day of job hunting.
Today, she decided to walk through the park on her way to town. It was here that she noticed a Hot Dog On A Stick food truck parked near the playground. A sign in the window read "NOW HIRING". Sam immediately headed over to investigate.
"Hello. I'm here to inquire about your 'now hiring' sign," Samantha said to the woman taking orders at food truck. The woman was arrayed in the classic Hot Dog On A Stick uniform- the colorful striped shirt, the blue shorts, the funny tall hat.
"You looking for a job?" she asked Sam. Sam nodded.
"Well, it's your lucky day. You're hired."
"Wha- Just like that?"
"Yeah, you're hired. Our manager said to hire the first person who came along looking for a job. That would be you."
"Oh! Oh, wow, that's wonderful. I guess it really is my lucky day," Samantha gushed.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," said the hot dog lady, "TRIXIE! Give this chick her outfit!"
The "Trixie" in question ended up being a thickset, middle-aged lady with dark hair, also in the infamous Hot Dog On A Stick uniform. She opened the truck door and came out carrying a big box while Samantha continued to babble in sheer relief and excitement at having found another job so quickly.
"I mean, this is just too exciting. I never dreamed I'd wear one of those Hot Dog On A Stick uniforms. I'll probably look like an idiot, but-"
Trixie interrupted her. "Oh, no, honey. You won't be wearing a uniform."
"Uh... oh. Aren't I working in the truck?"
"No," said Trixie, "You're working next to the truck. You're the hot dog." She opened the box and pulled out a giant inflatable hot dog suit. Samantha stared in horror.
Yes, siree. She was the mascot.
Ten minutes later, Samantha was situated next to the food truck, dancing to "Tequila" by The Champs, dressed like a giant, smiling bratwurst. A gaggle of small children from the playground pointed and squealed in delight. Although it was a cold day, Sam was already sweating inside the hot dog suit. This job was harder than she'd thought. Not only was the suit hot, but it also had no arm holes. She felt very clumsy and top heavy and was constantly afraid that she was going to fall over and not be able to get up due to the inability to use her arms. People smiled and laughed and pointed as they walked by. "Look at the hot dog!" Samantha was extremely grateful that no one could tell who she was inside the huge suit. Otherwise, she would have been humiliated.
As Sam continued to dance, more and more kids from the playground stopped what they were doing to get closer and watch her. Suddenly, as if they had all planned it that way, they all ran towards her and began to dance right along with her. At first, Sam was quite shocked and a bit worried that she was going to lose her balance and fall on one of the kids. But as they continued to dance with her, she saw the looks of happiness lighting up their little faces and found that she was really enjoying this. Hell, she was dancing and having fun with a bunch of little kids and getting paid for it! This was great! Samantha let loose and partied on. The kids were loving it. When the song reached the appropriate moment, she even dared to shout "TEQUILA!" and bust a fancy spin.
That fancy spin was her lethal mistake. Alas, the top heavy hot dog finally lost its balance. She slipped on a banana peel some soccer mom had dropped there from their brat's snack time. "W-whooooah!" Samantha shrieked as her foot slipped out from under her. Unfortunately, it all happened too quickly for the children to realize what was happening, and she fell on top of one of them, just as she'd feared. Once Sam and the aforementioned child were down, the other kids began dropping like dominoes. Kids screamed. Their parents screamed. They ran towards their children.
Luckily, Sam's puffy inflatable costume had spared her from injury, but she feared that the same could not be said for the little girl she had clobbered. Worst of all, she could not get up due to the fact that she couldn't use her arms. The crying child was trapped beneath her and her massive suit, and all she could do was lie there, afraid to move for fear she would kill the kid if she did.
"HOT DOG!" she heard Trixie yell from the truck, "You're FIRED!"
...
"Would you look at this, honey," Darrin remarked that night at the dinner table, his nose buried in the evening paper, "It says here that Hot Dog On A Stick is going to add arm holes to their mascot's costume. Apparently they had a food truck at a park today, and their mascot lost its balance and landed on a bunch of little kids. The mascot couldn't get up because it couldn't use its arms, and it accidentaly broke a five-year-old child's elbow."
"You don't say," Samantha replied with the enthusiasm of a tortoise, twirling spaghetti on her fork and staring at it.
Darrin looked up. "You look tired tonight, sweetheart. You get a lot of housework done today?"
"Yeah... yeah, housework."
If only he knew.
...
Wednesday morning, Samantha set off job-hunting for the third time that week. Sure, she had suffered a couple of mishaps, a couple of snafus, but she wasn't going to let that stop her. This was barely Day Three. Who ever heard of a person securing a steady job in just three days?
The first place she stopped at that morning was a little shop called Piper's Natural Health Foods. She had seen the "help wanted" sign in the window and decided to stop in. Piper, the owner of the shop, was a slender woman with long graying hair. She wore a flowy lavender dress with a casual lace-up bodice and flowery embroidery, the kind you find in those eccentric Nepalese stores with all the Buddhas and incense and stuff. Piper was one of those types who was into yoga and substituting flavor with cardboard and living as long as she possibly could. She was also seemed to believe that she was Indian (from India), even though she was actually white and from Kentucky. She was in need of someone to help her keep her shop clean and tidy, so when Samantha came in and offered her services, she hired her right away.
"You can start today," Piper told her.
After she had shown Samantha the ropes of the place and explained what was expected of her, she handed her a box full of homemade cleaning supplies and told her to get started.
"Wow, I've never seen cleaning supplies like these before," Sam commented, holding up a spray bottle filled with clear, yellow liquid. It looked like pee. The bottle was glass because Piper didn't allow plastic in her store.
"Everything we use here is natural," replied Piper in a sort of uppity way, "I make all these cleaning solutions myself from plants, herbs, and pure essential oils. We do not use those awful, poisonous, chakra imbalance-causing chemicals everyone else uses in our modern times. Everything that passes through these doors must come from the earth, just like us."
Samantha spent the rest of the morning hard at work, diligently sweeping, mopping, dusting shelves, and wiping the windows. She broke her record that day in that she actually lasted till lunchtime in this new job, and she was very pleased with herself. But unfortunately, that was just it. She lasted until lunchtime, and no further. For lunch break was when Piper found Sam huddled in the back room among the crates of organic kombucha, eating Lunchables (the kind where you skewer chicken nuggets a long pretzel stick). Piper had a cow that Samantha had brought such "toxic, chemical-filled crap" into her store and fired her on the spot. Our witchy heroine was officially sacked for the third time in three days.
To make matters worse, she ended up having an allergic reaction to the saffron oil in Piper's window cleaner. When Darrin came home that evening to find his wife covered from head to toe in hives with lips swelled up like a fish's, she quickly had to think up an explanation.
Apparently, Aunt Clara's lucky doorknob wasn't doing her any good.
...
By morning, Samantha's hives had improved out and become nothing more than flat, pale pink spots that no longer itched. She got up and repeated the routine she had been following all week. Cook breakfast, wait for Darrin to leave, get spruced up, wait for Aunt Clara to arrive, leave the house. But this time, her heart just wasn't in it. She felt sluggish. Her enthusiasm was waning.
Just as she had on the morning she'd gotten the hot dog gig, she took a detour through the park on her way out. But instead of going straight to town, she stopped, flumped down on a park bench, and sighed. She really didn't feel like job-hunting today. What was the use if she couldn't keep a job for more than three hours? Maybe she should just go home- come back and take Tabatha to the park or something.
As she sat there staring dejectedly at the ground, a lady with short blonde curls came and sat next to her.
"Got a light?" the woman asked, holding out a cigarette. She was about Sam's age (biologicallly, at least) and wore a black fur coat.
"Uh- Oh, yes. Of course." Sam pulled a lighter out of her purse.
"Thanks." The lady took a long, slow puff. "Say, what's eating you? Most horses I've seen didn't have faces as long as yours."
Samantha shrugged. She hadn't realized that her bad mood was quite so obvious.
"Oh, it's nothing important," she tried to chuckle.
"Well, then I'd hate to see what something important does look like," the woman replied, "Now, let me guess." She pointed at Sam. "You're having job trouble."
Sam was floored. "How did you know?"
Now the woman shrugged. "I'm good with these kinds of things. If you don't mind me asking, what exactly's going on?"
And that was how Samantha found herself spilling to a complete stranger about how she'd been fired three times in one week, first for getting eggs thrown in her face, then for falling on small children dressed as a giant inflatable hot dog, then for eating Lunchables. By the time she had finished telling her sad saga, the lady was giggling.
"I'm sorry," she said good-naturedly, "I'm not laughing at you. It's just that... an inflatable hot dog suit? That sure is a heck of a way to get fired."
"Yeah..." Sam cracked a small smile at the incident for the first time since it had occured, "Yeah, I guess it is pretty funny."
"Anyway," said the blonde lady, moving on, "I'm glad you told me, because I think I just might be able to help you."
"What do you mean?"
The lady looked her right in the eye. "How would you like to be a Scooters waitress?"
Sam did a double take. "Scooters? You mean the restaurant where the waitresses wear those skimpy outfits? The one with the duck logo where the two O's in 'Scooters' are the duck's eyes?"
"Yep, that one," said the woman, "See, I was a waitress there until just yesterday. I quit. I'm marrying a man who's very well-off and I won't need to work anymore. My boss wasn't too happy about it. They're having a shortage of waitresses right now, you see, which is why I'm sure they'd be happy to hire you. Tell them Leila sent you, and that'll make it even easier."
"Umm... I don't know. That's not really my kind of thing," Samantha declined politely.
"You need money, don't you?" Leila prodded. This was true. Samantha knew she'd never be able to buy Darrin that Heavy Heifers album- let alone do it with money she'd earned herself like she dreamed of doing- unless she found a way to earn some cash. But the idea of parading around in a Scooters outfit... that sounded even more humiliating than the hot dog suit.
"Look," said Leila, "If it's the outfits that are holding you back, look at it this way: If Nancy Sinatra can make a music video of herself and a bunch of other girls busting suggestive moves with no pants on, or pose for an album cover in nothing but boots and a sweater, why can't a waitress show a little skin? At least we get to wear shorts."
If you can call them shorts, Sam thought.
"Well, I suppose..." she replied, still not convinced, "You really think they'd hire me?"
Leila snorted. "Pffft! Of course they will! They'd hire anyone with boobs, even if they were dumber than a box of rocks."
As she had so many times that week, Samantha pictured Darrin unwrapping his very own signed copy of The Heavy Heifers Greatest Hitson his birthday, the look of joy and surprise on his face when he realized what it was. Now she felt conflicted.
"Weeeelll..."
Leila grabbed a strip of paper from her purse, scribbled something on it, and stood up.
"Here. Here's my name. Why don't you sleep on it, and if you decide you want to do it, tell them I sent you and the deal's yours for sure."
Samantha took the paper. "Thanks. I will."
"Good luck," Leila said. Then she turned and went on her way.
That night long after Darrin had conked out, Sam lay awake in a quandary. Should she take the Scooters job? Should she pass? Since she wasn't having any luck with other jobs, she knew that Scooters might be her only chance at earning enough money in time for Darrin's birthday. But those outfits! At the price of her own decency and self-respect, was it really worth it? Maybe it was time to give it up and forget all about the Heavy Heifers. She could always get him another gift. A nice tie or a bottle of wine. A slab of clay with Tabatha's handprint in it.
Ugh. No. All those ideas sounded lousy.
Just then, Darrin began to stir and talk in his sleep.
"Samantha?" He rolled over with a sigh. "I love you more than fried frogs' legs on a Tuesday. You're the only orangutan for me."
Sam looked and saw that had a little smile on his face. If that wasn't the sweetest thing she had ever witnessed! Her heart melted.
How could she possibly think of backing out like that? Darrin deserved his Heavy Heifers album! He deserved the greatest gift in the world!
"I'm doing it, Darrin!" she sat up and whispered aloud in the darkness, "I'm doing it for you! You will have your Heavy Heifers album, so help me, God! I'll buy it for you if it's the last thing I do, and make myself worthy of forever being called the only orangutan for you!"
Darrin woke up.
"Sam, honey, is that you?"
Samantha quickly flopped down and pretended to be asleep.
Tomorrow was a big day.
To be continued...