See Jane Live

I can see my phone from across the room, laying suggestively at the edge of my desk. I keep it on vibrate. Without my help I know it will soon dive and plummet off the desk. I happen to be pretty positive it can withstand the impact when it buzzes itself to my bedroom floor so, I just go with it. It’s not that I’m too lazy to walk across the room, pick it up and see who’s calling. It’s also not because I’m avoiding receiving any particular call. The reason I say “fuck it!” and refuse to save it from it’s descent to my oriental carpet is because I don’t really care who’s calling. Not at all.

I’ve been staring at my ceiling all afternoon. Even with a new coat of paint this room still makes me feel like shit. I’ve been living here for six months now and it just never feels like home. Home never felt like home either, that’s why I left. I hated it there and I hate it here. I’d move out if I could afford to but, this shitty apartment is unusually cheap for the area, so I deal with it.

I can hear bass from a stereo down the hall. Three apartments over, that’s where Raz lives. He’s a pretty chill Jamaican guy I buy pot off of occasionally. Sometimes we hang out and smoke together on the roof of the building. One night while we were high he told me the story of the girl who lived in my apartment before me. She was some pretty chick fresh out of college with mommy and daddy paying her rent. She was a naïve girl from I understand and would bring random men back to the apartment to fuck. The last night she brought a guy home she was raped, killed, and butchered into a half dozen pieces. The cops never caught the guy and I think thats why my rent is unusually cheap.

I’ve got about 45 minutes before I have to go to work. I waitress at some fancy bullshit restaurant. Thank god I’m only there part-time, I couldn’t bare it a second longer then I have to. It’s a high class place where I am nothing more than a servant with an extensive knowledge of wine. Rich men bring their ditzy dates in to show off their money. The women look down on me while their dates grab my ass. Management won’t do anything about it, god forbid we lose a customer. That’s why I came up with my own personal policy, I spit in their drinks.

Third drawer down in my desk is where I keep a quarter of weed and a gun. I’m not some gang banging hood rat, but, after Raz told me about the previous tenant he let me hold one of his pieces. I guess it makes me feel a little safer although, I’m not sure I would ever have the guts to use it. It’s the pot I’m reaching for right now instead. I’m at the point of needing to smoke a joint right before work or I won’t show up. I take a few pulls from the joint before I put my uniform on. Black slacks, white button down Oxford shirt, deep red silk tie, and an apron that reaches down to my black crew shoes. My name tag says Jane. I don’t know a Jane. My name is Lorelei.

I pick my phone up from the floor and finally check my missed calls. I’ve had 13 missed calls in the last two hours. Six of the calls were from a guy I’ve been seeing the past few weeks but, over the last few days I’ve lost all interest in him. Early in the week he come over to watch a movie and we order Chinese food. I don’t know if I had just never noticed before or what but, I could hear him chew every bite. That was it. As soon as the movie ended I was “really tired and have to get up early tomorrow morning, you can let yourself out!” Poor guy. I’ll send him a text later letting him know I’m now a lesbian.

A few of the other calls were from random friends that I probably won't get back to this week. Two calls were from Steve, one of the other servers at work. I’m not friends with anyone on staff so, I know he’s not calling to be social. I was curious to hear what he wanted.
“Hey Steve, you called?”
“Yeah Jane, I was wondering if we could switch shifts. I’ve got this thing on Sunday and Brian won’t take me off the schedule. He’s such a prick!” Steve has a southern accent but I’ve never asked him where he’s from.
“Sure, whatever.” I don’t sound too excited but really I’m thrilled. “My shift starts at 6.”
“Thanks girl, you’re real doll!” I wonder where he’s from but I still don’t ask. I hang up and collapse onto my bed. No work tonight. What ever will I do?