I lean over the railing of the bridge looking out at the crowds of people in this busy city. People are walking in all directions. Some this way. Some that way. Ducking, bobbing and weaving. All have the same goal in mind. To get to where they are going as fast as they can with as little interaction as humanly possible. It doesn't matter where you go in the world. You could be in Paris or Rome. London or Berlin. If you are in a city you are in a city.
Back at the seaside town I just couldn't shake the feeling I was being watched. I told myself over and over that I was fine. That there was no way he was near. But that feeling... Ugh! I just couldn't shake it.
So now I am here, looking down at a sea of people. A crowd so big that getting lost amongst them should be no trouble at all. So that is what I am going to do.
I don't have much money left despite the fact I have tried my best to save. I have been careful to not spend on things I do not need. I have come to realize however that the essentials when on the run are ridiculously expensive. More so if you're paranoid.
There are two things I need. A place to stay and a job. Oh and maybe a miracle. But I'm not counting on that. I have enough money for a few more nights hotel hopping but then I'm flat broke. A job is definitely the more pressing of the two right now.
I recall the time I spent studying art. You might think it's just a group of adolescents faffing about painting apples onto canvas. But it wasn't. I worked hard and felt so proud of my work. When I passed the course I was thrilled. My good grades combined with my course qualification got me into a prestigious school that I never dreamed I would even be in a position to apply to.
I branched off into photography. Not the kind where you tell people where to stand and when to smile. My passion involved capturing moments. Special moments that are so often missed.
I recall all of this now, standing on a bridge in the middle of a bustling city because a thought occurs. One that's painfully true. All of the late nights, all of the revising, all of the stressing to get things right is of no fucking use to me. Not one little bit. I have no experience, no bank account I can access, no fixed abode ... nothing. How am I going to get a job?
I walk off the bridge and down onto the pavements that are lined with shops, bars and restaurants. I no longer have the feeling I am being watched and it feels so good. So safe. I may be in the worst possible position but I am not being watched, not being followed and being able to breathe easy feels amazing.
I allow myself to be swallowed up by the crowds and walk around aimlessly. I don't know my way around so I try to memorize certain shops in the hopes that if I stray to far I have a chance of finding my way back. Everywhere is so busy. I have to step out onto the road as the pavement I am walking down is full of people spilling out of a bar, drinks in hand, smoking cigarettes and chatting animatedly. That's when I spot the piece of paper in the window. I almost miss it because of the amount of people moving around partially obstructing the view.
'Staff wanted urgently!!' Scrawled in thick black marker pen and stuck to the window with blu tac lopsidedly.
I feel nervous. I have no experience. I have never pulled a pint in my life. Oh but I need this! As I make my way through the crowd who are blocking the entrance I think of all of the questions I will be asked. All of the answers I can't give. All of the reasons I will not get this job. I decide I need more time to think up a story. Something that makes sense. I decide this yet I keep on walking. Maybe because I know I won't be able to think up a good enough reason for having none of the things normal people have. Bloody hell! What if they ask for references?
The bar is dark inside. It's a mixture of people drinking alcohol and coffees. Staff are weaving through the crowded space with trays of food, shouting loudly with the orders trying to match the food to the customer. All of the seats are occupied and many people are forced to stand. The music playing from the speakers competes with the hubbub of the crowds.
I push through as far as I can but I stand no chance of getting to the bar. It's just too crowded. A waitress is walking past heading back to the bar. She is about my height, same hair color but she looks stressed. Her forehead is covered in sweat and her black apron filthy.
"Excuse me," I say but she doesn't hear me. I walk closer trying to catch her attention. I raise a hand up slightly and try again.
"Excuse me," I say louder. It does the trick. She closes the gap between us.
"You ok luv?" She says, her eyes scanning the bar. She is clearly in a rush to get back to serving.
"Errr yeah, I noticed the err sign, the one in the window." I sound like a moron. Great start Mia. Fucking wonderful.
"What?" She sounds impatient now.
"The job. I need a job." I say louder pointing in the direction of the sign in the window.
"Oh right, yeah I get ya, follow me."
She walks on and I follow. "Come on you lot, out of the way!" She shouts to the crowd in front. She lifts up a piece of the bar and holds it open for me to walk through. I do so suddenly feeling very self conscious. "This way." she says after dropping the bar back down. We walk through a door, down a short corridor and stop outside of another door. My hands are sweating, clasped tightly to the handles of my holdall.
She doesn't knock, she just opens the door.
"Linda, some girl here about a job." And with that she returns back to the bar.
I just stand feeling like a lemon not really sure what to do. After an awkward few seconds I lean my head in the room.
"Hi." I say not recognizing the sound of my own voice although this new anxious voice is getting to be more familiar.
A woman 'Linda' is sat behind a small brown desk. Papers everywhere, hands flapping around.
"Hi, come in. Close the door." She says very quickly. She doesn't offer me a seat so I stay standing. She is thin, mid forties I guess. Her brown curly hair is pulled into a tight low ponytail. Her long thin arms frantically opening and closing drawers like she is looking for something she cannot find.
"You have any experience?" She asks not looking up at me rummaging in another drawer.
"No," I say "But I'm a quick learner and I really need a job." I add.
She stops now, leaning back in her chair looking up at me. Her hand rubs her forehead like she doesn't know what to do with me. I know I look awkward, just standing here, holdall in hands. I feel a light sweat break out over my body. God this is awkward.
"Ok, I'm just gonna give it to you straight." She leans forward, her elbows resting onto the desk. "My wife left me, fucked off with the slag down the road."
