Nailing a job at the big fishery in town was a good way to start off the summer of 2010. I didn't know much about the fish, but that wasn't my job. My job was the chemistry of the business, and that's the way I liked it to be. Throughout high school, my chemistry and physics teachers would make jokes about the other side of the science wing, where the biologists kept what one of my teachers called "bullshit." I guess I kept that thinking, and throughout college I took the biology classes but chemistry was my thing. It made sense. It was for the most part black and white. Ecology, from what wafted to my office while I was at work, was not black and white.
Regardless of whether I was a biology person or not, that summer I made a huge decision. Very unlike me. I decided to get a goldfish. This was totally out of line for me, since in the past I was unable to keep various plants alive. I shared a lizard with my roommate for a short while in college—that is, until he escaped.
I was lonely I guess. I think some part of me thought it would be very "urban." Very "vogue." My apartment was cluttered for the most part, but I thought getting a goldfish would help my feng shui, or what little of it was present at least. I went to a local IKEA and sifted through the large vases they had. I came across one about two feet tall, rectangular, pretty narrow.
"Feng shui, here I come," I thought.
I carted it up my apartment, filled it with water and went to bed that night with a smile on my face. My toes, the pink chipping off on my toenails, wiggled under the sheets. Tomorrow would be the day I finally went to the local pet store. Noah's Ark. Noah was big time friends with my crazy lesbian aunt. She had more cats then were probably considered normal, and spent a lot of time there. Unlike me, she went to college to study zoology. I didn't go there often (like I said, I avoid living things, that aren't able to take care of themselves, as much as possible) but I was dreading running across her there. As far as I was concerned, she had become a cat.
Walking in, I was already uncomfortable. The place smelled like litter and animals. Noah's employees, in their green uniforms, milled around with big smiles, approaching customers who looked lost. I tried my best not to look lost, but much to my dismay, a young woman handling a gecko swooped down.
"Hi! My name is Claire! Can I do my best to help you find something?" The gecko eyed me, and obviously sensed I wasn't a living things type of gal.
"Uh. Um. Fish?" I stuttered.
"Sure thing! The fish section is in the back. Big sign that says aquatic. Look for a tiny guy named Dean, he should be able to help you. Hard to miss, red hair, loud personality."
"Um. Okay thanks."
I found my way to the fish section, but this guy Dean wasn't anywhere to be found. I thought that seemed fishy, pardon my pun, but until then I hadn't been at such a shortage of employee help. I wandered around the deserted section.
"Aquatic plants, nope. Saltwater, nope. Tropical Fish, nope." At the end were pond fish, and I certainly didn't want a twelve inch koi fish. That definitely screamed bad feng shui. I passed several tanks of frilly looking goldfish. They were stunning but the first thing that came to mind was "high maintenance." At the very corner of the room was the tank of comets. Feeder fish. I knew that much.
"Um,"
A deep voice coughed behind me and I jumped in place. Turning around I faced what couldn't be Dean and reading the name tag pinned to the same green polo shirt as all the others, read "Jack," affirming my assumptions. He was a good foot and a half taller than me, maybe a few years older too. Broad linebacker shoulders. This Jack guy wasn't awkwardly muscly as far as I could tell, but the kind of lumberjack type who's good at giving hugs. That is, if his body language allowed him to be intimate. He stood stiff in front of me. His dark, curly hair was pulled in a short, loose ponytail and his beard needed a good trimming. His eyes were dark, almost black and light freckles dusted the tops of his high cheekbones. His arms were covered in tattoos, maybe tribal—
Shit. I was staring. Shit. He waved his hand in front of my glazed eyes.
"Hey. You stoned or something lady? I was just checking to see if you, uh—"
"Needed help?" I squeaked.
"Yeah. Do you need help?"
"Uh. Feeder fish. Do you have feeder fish?"
"Right in front of you." He rubbed the back of his head with his hand, and a tattoo of the Sydney opera house on his wrist peeked out from under his watch.
"Yeah. I was thinking of getting one."
"We sell them in bulk." He was getting irritated, I could tell.
"Um," my lip quivered, "I just want one."
"Lady, you're not one of those chicks who buys a feeder fish in hopes of saving it, are you? Let me tell you, that's a bad idea. Most of these guys aren't bred to live long and you'll be disappointed. If not for bad genes, they've got some sort of illness or ailment." His eyelids fluttered, he looked tired. This weakness gave me courage. I wasn't good with animals, but I could work with people.
"This isn't your only job, is it... Jack?"
His eyes popped opened and he smirked, "No, actually. I work construction on the weekends to make up for the lack of money in the... domesticated animal retail business."
Even I laughed at that.
"So what'll it be then if not a comet... uh..."
"Ruth. Ruth's the name. And I'm not sure, I'm not too great with—"
"Living things?"
"Yeah, actually. I'm a chemist."
"I could tell a mile away." His deadpan expression was killing me but I could live with his all too appealing body. He led me back to the tanks of what I had labeled "high maintenance fish." The orange and white beauties fluttered around the tank. Jack pressed one set of fingertips against the glass and sighed.
"Love these guys."
