Well…I’m back.
You may be thinking, “M.J. where have you been for the past two weeks? Your last post was on July 4th. What happened?” My answer is that life happened. Unfortunately, some stuff popped up that prevented me from writing anything, but I’m back now to bring you some more cringe in the form of my first novel. We only have two more chapters left to go through after this post, which means I may or may not conclude this series next week. After that, I don’t know how soon I’ll be posting anymore stories of mine, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. For now, let’s just content ourselves with kicking back and reading Chapter 8 of The Spotlight.
Chapter 8: Back Home
“After the tragedy at the Prism de Beau fashion school, Madam du Boa is making new records with her designs…” said a newscaster. Blip. Rebeca turned off the T.V. Wasn’t there anything other to watch than fashion nowadays? “Oh, I know you’re upset, but I think this will cheer you up,” said Mrs. Richardson. Rebeca turned her head towards the phone her mother was holding up. There was an advertisement hiring girls to work at a well-paying restaurant. “It pays $100 a week and has top notch security!”
[Author’s Note: Apparently, 10-year-old me didn’t realize that minimum wage (depending on what state you live in) is anywhere from $15-$20 an hour. That means that your gross income – minus taxes, tips, and other variables such as how long your workday is and what days of the week you work – would be over a $100 a day. No employer would ever be able to get away with paying their workers $100 a week.]
“Sounds great, Mom,” said Rebeca. “Another job interview. How exciting.”
The next morning, Rebeca’s mind was made up. She would go to another jo interview. “Mom, Dad, I have an announcement to make,” started Rebeca. “You and I all know that it’s been really tough lately with me bouncing from one job to the next. But I have made up my mind. I will work for the restaurant to make some money. Hopefully, I’ll be able to pay off my debt and buy a house or apartment room. Bit I’m going to work my bitt off to start my own fashion business.”
[Author’s Note: You’re not going to be able to pay off your college debt and buy or rent a house or apartment with a salary of only $100. Especially not when apartments that are barely the size of my living room are going for upwards of two thousand dollars nowadays. Though, I suppose since Rebeca’s parents are rich, maybe they could help her out with affording her own place.]
“Oh, Rebeca, that’s wonderful!” exclaimed Mr. and Mrs. Richardson, hugging Rebeca.
The next day, Rebeca went to the restaurant. Ding! rang the bell at the door. “Hello!” said a sprightly door woman. “Welcome to Delana’s Cafe and Restaurant. How may I help you?”
“I’m looking for the job office,” Replied Rebeca.
“Ah! You want a job here, yes?”
“Yep.”
“Interviewer’s office is over there,” said the woman, pointing towards the door on the left.
“Okay. Thank you!”
“You’re welcome!”
[Author’s Note: I have to laugh at this. Last month, I applied for a job at Raising Cane’s and while I was researching for things to expect during the interview (which was unfortunately cancelled for reasons they never disclosed), you’re supposed to go up to the counter and ask for the manager and explain that you’re there for an interview. They then may take you into their office or to a table somewhere in the restaurant. They don’t have a job office or interviewer’s office.]
The interviewer’s office was not any less drafty than the first one’s. The walls were cold and made of concrete. The windows looked like they hadn’t been insulated in 50 years! A shiver went through Rebeca’s spine. It was cold, maybe 45 degrees.
“Hello, Rebeca,” the interviewer said in a monotone. “You want to get a job here?”
“Yes,” replied Rebeca.
“Well…to bad! We already got all the waiters and waitresses we need. We don’t have any more openings.”
“But…the sign…”
“Ughhh! I told that kid to take down the sign. Well, anyways, get out!”
Rebeca left, dejected, hoping for a job she didn’t get.
[Author’s Note: Hold on…didn’t the restaurant call Rebeca’s mom about their opening? And in a day and age where pretty much everything is done through email, wouldn’t they have let her know beforehand?]
“Rebeca!” started Mrs. Richardson. “Guess what?! Your father went to the lottery and won 10.5 million dollars, for you!” Rebeca was breathless. All that money, for her? Did her mother learn about how Rebeca didn’t get a job and so sent her dad to the lottery to get the money?
[Author’s Note: I’m just wondering where her mom came from. Did she call her? Was she waiting outside of the restaurant? Did she go home? Is Mrs. Richardson from the magical land of plot propulsion? What’s happening here?
Also, that’s not even how the lottery works. It’s a gamble. You don’t just go to the lottery and are immediately given 10.5 million dollars.]
“Mom,” started Rebeca.
“Yes, dearie?” asked Mrs. Richardson.
“Did you ask Dad to get money form the lottery for me?”
“Surprisingly, no. He did it himself for you.”
[Author’s note: Why is that surprising?]
Just then, Mr. Richardson burst through the door. “Congrats, honey!” said Mr. Richardson, “I heard about you not getting your job, so I went to the lottery and won you 10.5 million dollars for your fashion business!”
“Thank you, Daddy!” Rebeca ended by crying in joy and thankfulness.
Until next time,
M.J.
The Tanuki Corner 
😂😂😂
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