Lexie woke up slowly,
snuggled into bed, luxuriating in the warmth, and in the lack of urgency. There
was no rush today. She had been fired yesterday, after all. That didn't concern
her a lot. It wasn't the first time, after all, and she'd find something –
eventually. And in the meantime there was welfare. She'd never canceled it when
she found a job. Why would she? Jobs didn't last long in her experience.
After twenty minutes or so
of daydreaming and waking up slowly, she finally sighed and threw back the
covers, then swung her legs out of bed.
It wasn't a long swing. Her
mattress was on the floor. The sheets were expensive and delightfully soft, but
she'd been able to steal those from a job at a bedding store. Stealing a bed
was orders of magnitude more difficult. And Lexie didn't DO difficult. Not if
she had a choice, anyway.
She was naked, because she
liked to sleep naked. She didn't like the unpleasant sensation of clothes
bunching up against her body as she moved, especially under the sheets.
Besides, she slept alone. There was no one to offend – not that offending
people was a particular concern of hers anyway.
She ran her fingers through
her thick, soft hair. It spilled luxuriously down across her shoulders, but it
could be a pain. She'd often thought of cutting it, but too many men liked long
hair. And men were... useful for a lot of things when you had little money.
She slipped her feet into a
pair of sweat pants and then slid them up her legs, leaning way back on the
mattress and lifting her legs high in the air to raise her butt up so she could
tug the pants over it, then let her legs fall back and, yawning, stood up, rubbing
her eyes.
It was around tennish, she
thought, surprised she'd gotten up that early. If she had a particularly
thought-out or stated philosophy it might well be 'Why wake up when you can lay
in bed comfy and warm?' or perhaps 'If at first you don't succeed – well fuck
it.'.
Persistence was simply not
in her. She had dropped out of school at sixteen because it was boring and she
had discovered online gaming, which was not. She didn't want to go to bed early
so she could get up early and go to boring classes to talk about shit she had
no interest in anyway.
She was content to stay
home and watch TV, smoke pot and play video games, but her parents ordered her
to find a job. She had found lots of jobs. Keeping them was proving to be a
problem. Three years later she'd had lots of jobs, and been fired from at least
a dozen, for everything from lack of punctuality to theft, from gossiping
instead of working to being caught smoking pot on her breaks, from stealing
food from customer's plates before delivering them to cursing and throwing
things at her co-workers.
Well, fuck them all. They
were all stick-up-the-ass types who couldn't take a joke and who thought
everyone should act like a robot. Life sucked. The price of pot kept going up,
and nobody wanted to give her a nice paying job doing interesting things she
liked doing. The only way she was even able to get the pot was stealing it off
various male friends she gave blow jobs to.
Lexie was depressed.
Nineteen wasn't sixteen. It was close to twenty. And Twenty was OLD! Next thing
you knew she'd be an adult! And then what!? After a fight with her parents
she'd stormed off to live with her friend April, but got tossed out for not
paying her share of the bills.
Was it her fault she kept
getting fired!? She didn't think so.
She'd got welfare, sure,
but that paid shit. And it was hard to get jobs without much of anything on her
resume. She sure couldn't give the names of her past employers. So she had to
make ones up. And they often checked.
She yawned and stretched,
looking out through the small window onto the street below. She was in an attic
apartment of a century old house. It was pretty bare, but pretty cheap,
especially with Caitlin, her roommate. Caitlin worked from nine to five every
day, so she was already long gone.
She wandered across the
floor in bare feet and into the little kitchen area. It had a tiny stove, an
even tinier fridge, a few cupboards and a sink. The place was a dump, but it
was cheap. Still, she resented it. She looked at those fabulous mansions on TV
and wondered why she didn't have one.
She also looked at the
bitches she saw on the street in their fancy clothes and felt like punching
them out. Snotty sluts. Probably fucked people for money. Especially the
blondes. Her friend Haley was a stripper. That was as far as Lexie could
imagine any self-respecting girl going. And even that, given most of the guys
were fat, old and ugly was just a big “Eewww!” to her.
Oh, she knew she could do
it, physically. She had a great body. Her tits could be bigger, but they were
pretty good, and really firm. Her ass wasn't huge like those slutty Kardashians
but she was slender and without fat on her hips. She would probably have to dye
her hair blonde like Haley, since guys really liked that, but she could do it.
Her skin was fair enough.
But the thought of grinding
herself against some fat middle aged bald guy with glasses was just too gross
to contemplate. She wasn't that desperate, thank you very much. Besides, Haley
said they ran a pretty tight ship, and often had mob or biker affiliations.
She'd never been good at taking orders, and didn't want to fuck with people
like that.
She needed a job. She was
out of pot, and guys were starting to notice that when she came over their pot
supplies seemed to dwindle in an unnatural manner. Plus the rent was due in two
weeks and she'd spent her last paycheck on an upgrade for her laptop.
Her laptop – which she'd
stolen from another job.
Lexie had no qualms about
taking things from rich people or organizations. They'd barely notice and could
certainly replace it easily. She, on the other hand, was poor. So she felt
justified – not to mention resentful for being poor.
She poured a bowl of
Frosted Flakes into a bowl and then dropped heavily into a leather sofa with
only a few duct taped cuts to the leather, picked up the remote, and turned on
the TV. There wasn't much on but she needed the background noise as she
pondered what to do next.
Clearly she needed to get a
job, and fast. She had a lot of experience in getting jobs, and they rarely
came quickly. Even if she interviewed today it could be a month before she
heard from them. And that's with an interview today. She would need a
short-term job, just something to tide her over.
She dropped some flakes
onto her breasts, and absently reached down to pick them up and pop them into
her mouth. The best place to find short-term jobs was the university. They had
a bulletin board there for students. That she wasn't a student was, to her,
irrelevant. Why should they get priority for jobs over her? Those fuckers had
money to go to college. SHE was poor!
She sighed and emptied the
milk jug down her throat, then wandered to their little bathroom and stripped
off the sweat pants. The bathroom was closet sized, with a tiny shower, a tiny
sink, and a toilet in the corner. She made a face at herself in the mirror,
brushed her teeth, used some of Caitlin's mouthwash, then stepped into the
little shower.
She could move, she
thought, as she soaped up. Jimmy Doyle had a nice place. But Jimmy Doyle was
kind of a dick. More importantly, he would want a lot more attention to his
dick – such as it was, than she'd been willing to offer up so far. It wasn't
that she'd never fucked guys to get her way before, but Jimmy Doyle wasn't much
of a fuck, and he didn't have that much to offer. And she wasn't that desperate
yet.
She used Caitlin's blow
dryer and brushed out her hair – which was black now. She'd dyed it black when
she was in a bad mood last week, and thought it still suited her. Maybe she
could have people call her Raven, or something else that sounded ethnic. She'd
tried to get people to call her X for a while, instead of Alexandra, but nobody
had bought it. Lexie was the most they would go for. And that didn't sound
either ethnic or mysterious.
She sighed and wandered
back to her 'bed' and the boxes next to it, fished out a thong and stepped into
it, then found a bra and pulled that on. They didn't match, but matching
lingerie cost too much given bras lasted longer than panties.
She pulled on a pair of
yoga pants. Flashing a nice ass was sometimes useful, and anyway, they were
comfortable. She pulled a football jersey on over her head, and then found
shoes and headed outside to catch the bus.