I Quit

Famke Noor was desperately trying to not lose her cool with her boss but damned if the man wasn’t an expert on pissing off women in general. She stared at him and folded her arms over her chest.

“I’m asking again. To be clear, you want to cut my hours because you think, as a woman, I need more time to get out there and find a man?”

He rubbed his yellow, cigarette-stained fingers across his chest after shoving the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth, “yeah. I think a beautiful woman like you needs to get a man. You work too much. Men like a woman who is available. Robbie needs more hours so it’s a win-win.”

“How about this,” she leaned over his desk and glared at him, “I’ve been here four years. Robbie has been here four months. Either you give me the hours I have been working without your sexist rhetoric or I will be calling the department of labour, and I will have them come down here to explain to you what sexual discrimination is.”

“There’s no need to get huffy, missy.”

“Famke, my name is Famke. Not missy, babe, sweetheart, sugar cheeks or any of the other bullshit names you spout. Famke. Now,” she threw the schedule back on the desk, “fix it.”

“No can do. Robbie needs more hours.”

“Then I quit.”

He paled at her words, “look, there’s no need to get bent out of shape. I can give you twenty hours.”

“Those twenty hours won’t pay my rent, Jack. I’m out.”

“You have the other job. Robbie only has one.”

“See, Jack, when you have two shitty jobs for minimum wage, one pays rent, the other pays utilities and groceries. However, minimum wage jobs are a dime a dozen. I can go find another one and be working in an hour. When you’re not fussy about the work and have a flexible schedule, most employers will hire you on the spot.” She walked out of the office. She heard the screeching of the metal feet of his chair sliding on the floor as he chased her.

Her feet faltered at the sight of the large man standing at the counter as a sense of déjà vu hit her hard, but she pushed it aside at the sound of stomping behind her.

“Famke, you can’t quit. You need to give me notice.”

“You can’t ignore labor laws and expect me to pander to your desire for notice.” She shot back as she walked behind the counter and grabbed her purse. “I’ll be by on Friday to collect my earnings.” She smiled benignly at the man at the counter and nodded, “the owner will be right over to help you out.”

“Famke!” Jack reached for her, and she pulled her arm away from him. “I don’t have anyone to close the rest of the week.”

“Should have thought of that before you cut my hours in half to give to a kid because he has a dick and I don’t,” she didn’t miss the stunned expression on the man’s face at the counter waiting to pay his gas. She noted the expensive sports car at the pumps. “Nice ride.”

“Thanks.”

His voice was a rich, dark tone and it made her think of drinking expensive black hot coffee on a Sunday morning while lazing in bed. She’d done it once. It had been a good day.

“Can someone please take my payment for the gas,” he questioned looking at Jack with his lips rolled back in disgust.

She knew Jack was revolting. His greasy combover with the smell of nicotine and body odor was enough to make any human being purge their stomach contents. Owning fifteen gas stations in the Pittsburgh area, which he ran with an underpaid skeleton crew, he made a mint, but he never shared his profits or bathed. It proved money did not make the man. She wrinkled her nose as she realized she’d grown immune to his grossness. “Owner can ring you through,” she jerked her thumb behind her. Jack wouldn’t know how to work the cash register if his life depended on it, especially the debit machines.

“Famke, please. I’ll give you your hours back.”

She spun and faced him, her fury spilling over, “four years. I have worked for you for four years. I’ve never taken a sick day, vacation day or been late once. I’ve never had a raise and I’ve never asked for anything other than to be at work and you repay my solid work ethic by cutting my hours in half because a boy asked for more hours.”

“I was doing you a favor!” he argued.

“Telling me I need to work less hours so I can find a man to take care of me is not a favor, you toad.” She growled. She pushed past him, “also, I might only have my grade twelve, but you have used me like you would a manager doing your bank deposits, inventory, and the cash floats, but you still only pay me minimum wage. You made me train the little pissant you gave my hours to, and you had me cover his shifts when he’s no-showed, twice!” she held up two fingers. “You don’t deserve me. I can work for the same salary at a fast-food restaurant for less hassle. Good luck figuring out your cash system.”

“Miss?” the man interrupted. “A friend of mine owns a coffee shop not three blocks from here. If you take my payment, I’ll personally take you to him and introduce you. He told me he’s desperate for staff. He had one girl leave to go to school out of state and another went into labor last night. I just left him, but I’ll be happy to go back. I really do want to pay for my gas though as I have a long drive back home and I don’t have cash on me.”

She flicked her eyes back and forth between Jack and the man and she groaned. It wasn’t in her to walk away from a person in need. She stalked around the counter and took his credit card and swiped it to pay the gas and nodded. “Thanks. I’d appreciate the reference. Where is the shop?”

“It’s called Black Magic. He’ll train you if you have no barista experience.”

“I know it. It’s walking distance from my apartment, but I’ve never been in there. I can walk down there now. If you could call him and let him know Famke will come in and chat with him, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll give you a lift. I promise I’m not a creep. I owe him a huge favor from a few months back and if I bring you in, someone who clearly wants to work, it will settle my score.”

“You look familiar to me.” She stared at him, her mind running to the couple she had once known. She chided herself not all Black men looked the same, but his features were so eerily like Prince’s features, she had to stop herself from staring. She had not heard from Prince in a long time. She needed to stop looking for his face in a stranger’s.

“One of those faces, perhaps?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She sighed. “Fine, but if I end up on the six o’clock news this place has CCTV, and my brother will not rest until the cops arrest you in your fancy car.”

He laughed at her comment as she rounded the counter again to leave. She liked his laugh. It came right from his belly and hugged her deliciously. If he were a local, she might have flirted a bit.

Jack was bug-eyed at the exchange. “You can’t leave!”

“Watch me.”

“I’ll raise your wages ten cents an hour.”

“Screw you, Jack.” She said with a snarl and followed the man with the shiny dress shoes to his pristine car. He held her door open for her, and she gave him a smile, “thanks.” She tucked herself into the leather seats, clutching her winter coat and her purse on her lap. When he got in, she smiled, “I noted the New York plates. You’re a long way from home.”

“Yes. My friend Keshaun orders me coffee, but he refuses to send it to me in the mail. He makes me drive here to pick it up. He gave up life on Wall Street to run a handful of coffee shops here and he likes to show off how he no longer has bags under his eyes from lack of sleep.”

She giggled at his words, feeling the stress of Jack melting away. “And you work on Wall Street, Mr. Fancy Car?”

He chuckled at her words, “My name is Royal and yes, I work on Wall Street. I run an investment firm.”

“Ah, fancy name, car, and job. Should I bow, Royal?”

“My mother decided she was going to name her children in a way which drive them to success.”

“And it worked?”

“She likes to think so. My father would tell you it’s the foot he kept planted firmly up my ass which made me the man I am today.”

She laughed loudly then at his comment. “I bet there’s more truth to his statement than hers.”

“I like to think I did it on my own with hard work and loads of sleepless night but who am I to deny my parents.”

She smiled.

“Do you have family, Famke?”

“A brother,” she shrugged. “He’s younger than me. He’s a senior in high school. He’s going to graduate in June.”

“No other family? Kids?”

“God no.” She shook her head and pushed the guilt down. “I work two jobs to make sure my kid brother has food to feed his teenage body. I’m not equipped to have a child of my own.” She looked to him, “you?”

He gave a slow, serious nod. “Yes. I have a five-year-old I’m raising.”

An uncomfortable silence followed, and she felt strangely like he was angry at her. Famke reminded herself getting into cars with strange men was probably not her best decision as she hugged the door.