The Pink Sneakers Club: Sometime Around Midnight. Christian Bertoni

nice addition to my very complicated and very erratic life.

      I could hear Julie inside yelling and screaming about dinner and Norma doing her bit to drown out Julie’s screams. Through the dining room window I could see my mom sitting there, smoking and having a drink while reading the paper. Completely oblivious to her current surroundings.

      I sighed heavily and slowly got out of the car and entered the house of chaos. Just for your own edification that’s what I call it. The House of Chaos.

      “Hey I’m home!”

      “Nat! Nat!” Julie came running over to me, “what’s for dinner I’m starving!!!”

      “Really? You guys can’t make something to eat? Norma you couldn’t do it either?”

      Norma shouted. “You don’t understand! You can’t comprehend what’s going on. So don’t pretend you do. Nothing’s that simple.”

      “Whatever you freak.” I walked into the dining room, “hey mom what’s going on?”

      “Hey dear. Did you just get home?”

      “Yeah. What’re we doing for dinner? The savages are hungry.”

      “I don’t know.” She went back to reading her paper.

      So I spent the next 45 minutes cooking spaghetti with butter. It was the quickest thing I could come up with in such a short time. Brenda and Julie set the table, when they weren’t fighting and Norma just sat at the kitchen table, waiting.

      “Is dinner ready yet?” Brenda asked.

      “Stop asking? I already told you five minutes ago it wasn’t!”

      Norma started in. “Don’t yell at her. It’s a legitimate question. I don’t like the fact you keep things to yourself like if dinner’s ready. I had a boyfriend who used to do that.”

      “Really? You had a boyfriend? I seriously doubt that.”

      “Why? Because I’m fat?”

      “No. Because your nuts!”

      “Screw you!”

      “Hey shut up you guys. I’m hungry!” Julie chimed in.

      “Why don’t you guys cook something once in awhile?” I asked.

      “What are you implying?” Norma asked.

      “To imply is to suggest without being explicitly stated. I was inferring. Get it right.” I shot back.

      “Yeah you can talky talk all day long, doesn’t mean you know.”

      My mom didn’t show up until it was time to eat.

      “So how was your day?” my mom asked.

      “Fine. We’re trying to find out who killed one of Randi’s neighbor’s cat.”

      “Ewww. Did you get to see the cat with its guts hanging out and brains everywhere?” Julie asked.

      “No. Just a crushed skull.”

      “Now Natalie I don’t want to hear that kind of talk at the table.” My mother was the only person I knew who actually ate while she smoked.

      “Well she asked. Mom, do you mind?” I waved the smoke away from me, “can you blow the smoke that way?”

      “If your father were here . . .”

      “Well he’s not.” I shot back.

      “Don’t you sass me young lady.”

      “Whatever.” I looked at my watch, “crap. I’m late I need to get to work. You three are in charge of cleaning up.”

      “You can’t make us!” Julie shouted. See what I mean she’s always yelling.

      “Good luck with that.” Brenda said.

      I looked over at my mom, “mom?”

      “They’ll do it. Don’t worry.”

      “I’m not cleaning. I’ve cleaned dishes before besides your spaghetti was awful. Too soft.” Norma put her two cents in, like anybody asked her.

      I leaned over the table at Norma, “let’s pretend for a moment I give a rat’s ass what you think. The only difference between you and dad right now? We can pull the plug on him!”

      “Natalie!” My mother barked.

      “Like you care. When’s the last time you went and visited him?”

      “That’s not the point. Your father is not useless.”

      “He is now! What’s he done for this family except put us so far into debt! I dealt drugs MOM!! Do you get that? I mean do you even really get what I did? No, I don’t think you do. None of you get the position I was put in!”

      I went to my room, grabbed my clothes and headed out the door. I’m a waitress over at Hooters, started about a week ago. Ever since the FBI confiscated all the money from the drug deals. We’re broke (sort of) I’ll explain in a minute. My mother refuses to get a job and as for Norma – forget it. Joan is to busy with her “life” and as for Lee like I told you earlier she’s out there somewhere enjoying life on an Indian Reservation. Sometimes I think my family’s useless.

      Okay, now before everything headed for the crapper I opened up a money market account, which is a great way to invest money, short-term. This is the best way for a quick turn around and to secure a return on your investment. See, the current average yield ranges from 0.50% to as high as 4.00%. Also these accounts are liquid and usually FDIC insured. I created an alter ego: Nicky Stanton so the FBI couldn’t track the money. With a driver’s license and her own Social Security number, you’d be surprised what you can create when you’re dealing with criminals. I managed to stock away about $150,000. At 4.00% should yield about $6,000 per.

      I walked into the back and quickly changed into my uniform. It’s hard to say which part of the Hooters uniform is the most ridiculous: the tiny, camel-toe inducing, unflatteringly-colored tangerine hot pants? The bodacious “Flashdance” scrunch socks? The thick, suffocating, unnaturally colored pantyhose that require a gymnastics routine to peel on and off? Each time I wrestle myself into this outrageous ensemble, I struggle to comprehend how anyone can find such an absurd outfit sexy. Seriously, no one’s ass looks good in shiny orange shorts!

      Tonight I was to shadow Janelle, who could pass as my twin. It’s eerie how much alike we look. Except, she’s always got her hair in her face. One of the bizarre rules here is no bobby pins or elastic hair bands. That’s grounds for termination. Whatever!

      What I like about her is she’s blunt and rude just like me. At 23 she’d been working here since she was 17. She was sort of putting herself through school. I say sort of because she was taking a few classes here and there, still trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. Unlike me, I’ve got my sights set a little higher, CEO of a major corporation. Any corporation, I’m not picky. As long as I’m clearing 250k per year.

      Crap! My manager Adam Ross walked in, he’s your typical “womanizing” jerk. Crew cut, works out a lot, thinks he’s God’s gift to women. Always dressing in Hollister, Abercrombie & Fitch, and Aeropostile, except when he’s at work.

      “Natalie I’m glad you could grace us with your presence.”

      “I’m sorry I’m late. Family problems.”

      “Well, we’re your family too,” he said in that slow condescending way of his, “and we have problems as well so are you saying we’re just not as important?” I didn’t say anything. I mean what the hell did he expect me to say?

      Janelle jumped in. “Adam, back off she’s just a few minutes late okay?”

      He continued to talk to me