Chapter 911.1Kelly Bobo loved her new job at the Gap. First of all, when she was first hired, she was given the job as greeter, which, in Kelly's mind had to be the easiest job on the planet. Serge, the tall, waify, manager had told Kelly otherwise. In his lisp of deadly seriousness, he lectured her on her first day of work that the task of being a greeter was not to be taken lightly. Not only was she responsible for making eye contact and smiling to as many customers as possible as soon as they entered the doors, but she was responsible for keeping an eye on them, especially when they were leaving for signs of shoplifting. Serge also reminded Kelly that there was minimal training that could be afforded by the Gap (lest they dip into their double digit profits), and instead, Kelly was expected to pay strict attention to the staff routines, product placement and customer interactions, while she acted as greeter.As Serge explained this to Kelly in a deadly serious tone that Kelly would learn, he would always take towards store matters great and small, Kelly tried to look as sincerely concerned as possible, Satisfied, Serge left Kelly alone to begin her first day of work. Kelly took her place in front of the revolving doors and stood as the first customers of the day quietly entered the store. Kelly reached into her Gap single-pocket-T pocket, and retrieved a handful of pills that she promptly swallowed. She then began to hazily smile and nod for the duration of the day. Thank God Kelly had been stashing away diazepam and oxazapam and lorazepam (Valium and its relatives) from her old days as a pharmacy technician (a long, long time ago). Kelly sadly realized that her sacred stash was almost finished. It was up to her to find newer, cheaper thrills. This job was already boring her to tears. Already tired of smiling sweetly at everyone, she started to give sneering looks to the customers that she believed Serge would rather not have at her store. Guys in acid-washed jeans (not Gap!), girls wearing big floppy tops (they'll never fit size small at the Gap), people wearing non-earth tones...Serge would thank her for getting rid of the undesirables. Kelly sneered at a squeegie kid. Unfortunately for Kelly, the kid sneered back. "What the F?*% is your problem, Greeter Girl??" he snarled at Kelly. Kelly suddenly realized she had the attention of most of the store. Perhaps Serge would not be so pleased. Even the soothing sounds of jazz could not break the tension. It was so obvious, yet Kelly still had to point out to the gaping masses: "What? Look at him. He's a walking fashion faux-pas. Dreadlocks? Can you say shampoo and detangler? And piercings? That's soooo Lollapalooza '91. And can you believe he's wearing an Exploited T-shirt? Even punk's next wave is dead." Snarling and waving his squeegee in the air, the offender turned and walked away. The light had changed, and he saw an opportunity, anyway. The Gap crowd went back to their khakis, figuring that buying a pair of pants was easier than actually learning to do the Lindy Hop or ride a skateboard. Crisis (narrowly) averted. Kelly sighed. "That was about the most exciting thing that's happened all day. At least it broke the monotony. And, you know, to be honest, there was something curiously appealing about that hideous squeegee kid...I think it's that he wasn't wearing any beige." The more she thought about it (and standing around being a greeter at the Gap, she had a lot of time to think about it), the more her obsession with the young ruffian grew. By the end of the day, it was settled...she had to find him. Chapter 911.2 That young ruffian was named Kevin Shapiro. All his life, Kevin had been harassed by cops who thought he was up to no good, yelled at by drivers who were perturbed when Kevin would spontaneously lope in front of their moving vehicles, sneered at by strangers who'd pass by and wonder if such a strong smell could possibly result from such a skinny guy, and had pennies hurled at him by his peers. So when Kevin had read in an article on the second page of a Toronto Sun that he had found on a park bench that there was some phenominom called 'squeegeeing' - well, it sounded like he had found his true calling. Kevin didn't have the attention span to read the entire article and so he didn't realize that the city of Toronto had, in effect, declared 'war' on squeegeeing and perhaps he would joining the ranks of squeegee nation a little too late in the game. No, Kevin was almost teary eyed that the prospect that he might possibly belong to aspect of society. And better a marginal aspect, than nothing at all. Kevin had beaten up the first squeegee kid that appeared too strung out to hurt him and took his tools of the trade (pail, squeegee, coin, drugs) and set up shop at Bay and Bloor Street. Kevin had just started to make his contribution to the shadow economy when the doorman at the nearby Holt Renfrew had called the cops on Kevin. Luckily for Kev, one of the very few Tim Horton's was located just down Bay street and the cops could not resist its siren call. It was while the cops were their ordering of a couple of double-doubles did Kevin notice their vehicle and he had dashed into the nearby Gap store for safety. Kevin did his best to look inconspicuous and even pretended to look at clothes with some interest. "Oooh... cargo pants" he cooed to himself, a little too loudly. Then Kevin noticed the greeter girl who had a wicked sneer and was staring him down. Kevin sneered "What the F?*% is your problem, Greeter Girl??" And the Greeter Girl then promptly verbally berated him so badly that Kevin gave a little snarl, waved his squeegee and ran back into the street where he was promptly hit by a car. Chapter 911.3Kelly was so obsessed about finding the squeegier that it was just ruining her day. She started to regret all the mean things she had said to the boy, and his originality was becoming more and more charming. After all, who were these proles who walked into the store, all looking distinct and different, and came out with the same navy blue top and khaki pants. Kelly found her enthusiasm of her job waning. As the day progressed, she felt edgier and edgier, and consequently popped more and more Valium. By the end of her shift, all she could see was a hazy sea of khaki, and she greeted anything that appeared as movement in her field of vision. Serge was giving her odd looks and she kept greeting the revolving entrance doors, even when no one was coming through them. At 5 p.m. Kelly rushed home in order to clear her mind.As she sat on her sofa and turned on the TV, she wondered if perhaps squeeging would be a preferable occupation to greeter. Sure, she wouldn't get the 15% clothing discount, but then again, she could come to work unbathed and it wouldn't make any difference. As she thought about the pros and cons, she mindlessly flipped channels on the television. "Man, that Judge Judy is such a bitch!" Kelly flipped again. "Our top story...squeegie wars intensify as riff-raff squeegie boy hit by car in front of Gap store". Kelly screamed as she saw Kevin's bloody figure on the screen. Chapter 911.4That settled it. She definitely had to find that miserable unwashed boy who she knew must be The One. And she was going to march down to the Gap and tell Serge to take this job and shove it, and wouldn't even stock upon T-shirts and khakis first (because after all, they're just beige pants). She would have called around to the various hospitals looking for The One, but figured filthy ruffians were a dime a dozen at those places. No, she would have to go deep undercover in the squeegee community to track him down.She realized she'd have to start by looking the part. She gazed into the windows of the exclusive Bloor Street boutiques which only a few short years ago turned the grunge look into haute couture, but this season there was nothing even slightly dirty looking to be found, not even on the clearance racks. Lucky for Kelly, on her way to Queen Street to cruise the vintage shops for plaid shirts and shirts advertising something called the Dead Kennedys, she found a drug-addled street punk passed out on the sidewalk and managed to steal his boots as well as his squeegee before he regained consciousness. After a trip to the Black Market, a piercing boutique, and a questionable hair experiment in the bathroom involving a razor, Kelly was ready to begin her new life, but not before ingesting more of the morphine she knew would truly give her street cred. Soon He would be hers, oh yes, He would be hers. Chapter 911.5When Kevin regained consciousness, he was lying in a cot in one of the hallways of St. Michael's hospital. Although his head was pounding, he managed to raise it enough to soak in his surroundings. He was in a busy corridor and as he looked around a steady stream of cranky nurses, elderly nuns, and hung-over student pharmacists pushing carts filled with pills passed by his cot without giving him notice. He surveyed his own condition. He wasn't wearing a pathetic body cast and he wasn't strapped down like some crazy person, so he was initially relieved. But he was tired, groggy, and there was a dull pain everywhere and Kevin dropped his head back into his thin, institutional-green pillow.The face of a older man popped into Kevin's blurry view. "Hello, Kevin. Remember me? I'm Doctor Wallace. I was your doctor during your last stay at St. Mikes." Kevin shuddered. He was in the hospital for a month after some guy beat him up for stealing his hat. "You are doing very well, considering the less-than-healthy condition you were in before your little car accident. We've taken x-rays and there are no broken bones, although you have a lot of bruising that will take some time to heal. We will keep you under observation and if things go well, we will be able to discharge you tomorrow." Kevin gave a little pout. He had learned that a hospital stay meant a roof over one's head, free TV and all the Jell-O you could eat. At least he would be given a good number of pain-killers with his discharge. Doctor Wallace misread Kevin's concern and continued, "You don't have to worry about any criminal charges regarding your illicit trade of sqeeguing. In fact, the driver who hit you is now under investigation and so in the next weeks you may be called upon as a witness." Kevin nodded weakly. The doctor finally went away and Kevin tried hard
to think. Now what? Revenge? If so, against who: the driver, the cops,
the doorman, or the Gap Greeter Girl? Ouch - her words still stung. Or
perhaps, Kevin thought, maybe I should turn over a new leaf. No, he countered,
rolling joints wouldn't reduce the number of times he was beaten up and
hit by cars. Maybe, just maybe, Kevin wondered as he drifted off to sleep,
I should consider getting a real job, wearing real clothes, and getting
a real life.
Chapter 911.6
As Kevin's thoughts went into auto-pilot, the testosterone-driven part of his mind drifted towards Kelly. What a crunk, Kevin thought, she got me into this whole mess. But a nice-looking crunk. Get rid of the khakis and pastel sweater and put some ripped jeans and a Sepultura t-shirt on that girl, and woo-hoo! that girl would be hot stuff. Then Kevin thought of the perfect idea...he could get a job at the Gap! In normal circumstances, stores like that would never hire him, but now if Gap hires him, it would be a great publicity story....the Gap volunteers to hire a squeegie kid.... give him a chance at a real non-harrassing job (unless he's hired as a Greeter)... after all, the Gap needs some Street Cred, to compete with those cool ads from Diversity'...one phone call to the Sun and he could be front page news.... or maybe even the page 41 Sunshine Boy. And best of all, Kevin could look at Kelly all day, and at the same time rub it in her nose that he can get a snooty job at the Gap as well as she could. [ to be continued] Back to: The Table of Contents of Kevin Shapiro, Boy Orphan Got a story to share?
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