Grace Kwon was the HR director for a national retail store where I was working while attending college. At 28, she was a few years older than me but I couldn't help notice her when she walked through the store. Long, straight, coal black hair, almond Asian eyes and a tight little butt made me want to get to know her in spite of what she represented in the store's social hierarchy.
As cute as she was, Grace was also purported to be an icicle. She did little of the hiring for the store but all of the firing. And the rumor was she didn't even do it in person - she'd just post a pink slip with your timecard.
The first time I was actually introduced to Grace was my last day at the store, though I didn't know it at the time. My manager and I were going over a plan-o-gram - which is just retail talk for a display layout. Grace walked up and my manager stood up straight like he was at attention. He was obviously scared to death of her. But he was a career man. I was a part-timer with no ambition of making retail my life.
He introduced her to me as "Miss Kwon" and I offered my hand. She ignored it. She dressed me down with those cold, dark Asian eyes and finally said, "I think you'd look better if you got your hair cut." She started to walk away.
"And you should smile more," I said to the back of her head.
Grace stopped, turned slowly and looked me in the eye. "What did you say to me?"
I pointed at the corners of my mouth with my index fingers. "You're never fully dressed without a smile," I said.
Grace glared at me. Then she glared at my manager, who looked like he was about to pass out.
As word spread throughout the store, I became the person to avoid at all costs. The plague carrier. The truth teller. When it came time to clock out, I found a pink post-it on my timecard.
I was too young and stupid to be very upset. I had a full ride scholarship and I really took the part time gig for pocket money. The great thing about low-paying part time jobs is they are always plentiful.
I decided to go out that night, partly to drown my sorrows and partly to celebrate. The 901 Club downtown was featuring a band I was really getting into, so I threw on a nice shirt and a clean pair of jeans and headed out to the club.
I paid my cover and got up to the bar to check out the female population and who should catch my eye but Grace Kwon. She was at the end of the bar, sitting with all her friends - which is really just a smart ass way to say she was sitting all alone.
Grace was wearing a tight white party dress that showed a lot of her smoking hot legs. She was drinking one of those girly drinks in the fancy glass with a big straw. I asked the bartender to send her another one.
When she looked up to see who had sent her the drink, she held it in a mock toast and smiled. Then she recognized me and the smile disappeared. I grabbed my bottle and walked to where she sat.
"I was right," I said.
"About?" She was as cold as she could be.
I gestured to her face with the neck of the bottle. "Your smile. It's positively breathtaking."
She tried to look unfazed by the flattery but I could tell she liked it. "One would think, as you are unemployed, that you wouldn't be spending your money on women in clubs."
