Have Fun Working at the Mall (Chapter 5)

The next day, Madeline felt bad about the way she behaved towards Penelope. She learned that if you want to get anywhere in life, you have to work. Plus, her parents had a fit when they learned she had gotten fired. However, Madeline wanted to get her job back and marched to the mall to head to the Pink Tee.
"Penelope," she called after entering the colorful store.
Penelope, from behind the counter, groaned and rolled her eyes once she saw Madeline.
Madeline walked in front of the counter. "Look, I wanted to say I'm sorry. I acted like a brat and that's because I acted like a brat my entire life. But now, I just want to be normal and not depend on money to get me through life. I want to work."
Penelope picked the doughnut in a paper bag off of the counter. She walked out and marched towards Madeline. "You know, you have got a lot of nerve of talking to me the way you were talking to me. Don't you have any respect for the elders?"
"You're only twenty-five years old. You have to be--"
"Don't be a smart aleck, okay, Mad? I should have hired some woman in her thirties who is unable to grown from her teens than an actual teenager. I never liked kids ever since that baby threw up on me. Again. And again. And again. So I should've learned my lesson but what about yours?"
"I learned my lesson. I learned that adults' lives are harder than a teenager's and I should respect them because I have a lot to learn."
"You know, you sound smart but your words are just going, 'Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo'. My boyfriend wants kids so I tell him I have no ovaries."
"That's a bit personal."
"It's not personal if it's not true. I'm working fine. But here, this, this is not working fine." Penelope took a bite of her doughnut and continued to speak in a muffled tone. "You can apologize all you want but I know, deep down, you ain't going to change because--" Penelope suddenly started to gag. She produced tiny gasps and a silent gurgling from inside her mouth.
"Please, Penelope, I know you're mad but this is real. I can't promise to change but I can promise to do my best."
Penelope continued to gag, gaping her mouth wider and wider.
"Now you're speechless. Please talk to me."
Penelope stiffly waved her hand in front of her face as she turned red.
"What? Now I stink? Come on, Penelope, I understand how you're feeling but don't act like this."
Penelope then slowly held her neck, still gagging.
"Now I make you vomit? Don't be so cruel, Penelope. Oh, you're sending me mixed messages."
It took Madeline a couple seconds to make a realization.
"Oh, oh, my god! Are you choking?"
Penelope nodded; her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
"Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry."
Madeline ran behind Penelope and wrapped her arms around her abdomen. She held on to her arms while pushing quickly and forcefully on Penelope's stomach. Madeline did that four times until Penelope spit up her doughnut. Madeline released to let Penelope breathe and relax.
Penelope took another gasp of air before speaking. "Oh, Mad. You saved my life."
"It's Madeline."
Penelope, without hesitating, hugged Madeline. Madeline did not hug her back as Penelope released quickly. "Oh, my gosh. Thank you, thank you."
"Well, I wasn't going to let you die. I really need a job."
Penelope glared.
"I'm just kidding, You're welcome."
"God, I'll never eat and talk at the same time again."
"I didn't even know you were choking. I thought you were making fun of me."
"Oh, thank goodness you're smart."
"You'll admit that?"
"Just thank you. Thank you. I owe you."
"You owe me?"
"Yes, of course."
"So since you owe me, can you give me my job?"
"Seriously?"
Madeline nodded.
"Oh, I guess I can do that."
Madeline squealed happily before squeezing Penelope. "Thank you, thank you! And I promise I'll behave. I promise."
Penelope patted Madeline's back. "Just because I hugged you does not mean you can hug me back."
Madeline released. "Oh, sorry. When can I start?"
"How about right now?"
"I'll get my shirt."
As Madeline began to walk pass the entrance door, her friend, Guy, walked in with a bouquet of flowers. She instantly paid attention to him by stopping.
"Hey," Guy greeted.
"Hey, Guy," Madeline smiled. "What are you doing here again?"
"Well, you haven't called me so I thought I'd stop by."
"Guy, you gave me your number yesterday. I don't call people the day after."
"I was just joking."
"Oh, you're a joker now? What's with the flowers? Are they for your mom?"
"Yeah, but then I started to think of you so..." Guy took out one of the flowers from the bouquet and handed it to Madeline. "... one lucky daffodil for a lucky lady."
Madeline smiled from ear to ear while sniffing the flower. "This is actually a sunflower but thanks."
"So before I stash these at home from my mother, I'm going to the White Cup cafe. Do you want to join me?"
"Yeah!"
Penelope loudly cleared her throat.
"I mean no. I'm sorry."
"No, it's cool," Guy responded. "But if you change your mind, you know where to find me."
"Okay. Bye."
"Buh-bye." Guy turned around and left the Pink Tee.
After he did so, Madeline rushed up to Penelope. "Can I go on just one little break?"
"No," Penelope answered.
"Oh, please?"
"No."
"I know what I said but--"
"Your shift starts now."
"Fine." Madeline threw her arms down. She turned around and trudged away from Penelope. She sighed then mumbled, "I hate responsibility."

Have Fun Working at the Mall (Chapter 4)

For two days, Madeline worked at the Pink Tee after school. She did not like the idea of working after school because of the hours she works, she does not have enough time to do her homework. She worked at the Pink Tee with either a sad or bored look on her face. One day, while on her shift, she laid her elbow on the counter and rested her head in her hand while waiting for customers to walk in. When an old woman happened to walk in the store, Madeline announced blandly:
"Welcome to the Pink Tee where our tees are pink. May I help you?"
"Oh, I'm just looking," said the woman.
"Good."
The woman slowly walked around half of the store, gazing upon the racks and tables of pastel-colored clothing. Madeline, tired out of her mind, laid her head down on the counter as if she was going to sleep. The woman stopped by a table and picked up a yellow, plain T-shirt from the neat pile on top.
"Excuse me, miss," she called. "Miss?"
Madeline stood up. "What's up?"
"I need your help."
Madeline moaned. She walked over the counter and towards the woman. "What do you want?"
"Do you have this T-shirt in blue?"
"Yes." Madeline picked up a blue T-shirt off of the same table which was on top of a different pile of shirts. "There's one right here."
"Oh, I mean baby blue."
"Why didn't you say 'baby blue'?"
"I thought you knew that's what I wanted."
"I can't read your mind, lady."
"So baby blue?"
"Yes. I will be right back."
Madeline walked to her right across the store, heading towards the racks that were attached to the wall. She dug behind the shirts on one of the racks and took out a hanger of a light blue T-shirt. She walked back to the lady and held the shirt in front of herself.
"See? Baby blue."
"Hmm," the woman hummed. "Now I want lavender."
"But you said 'baby blue'."
"Yeah, but I like lavender."
"So you wanted to wear a baby blue shirt that you didn't even like?"
"I'm sorry. Is that confusing?"
"Very."
"Oh. But still, lavender."
While staring at the customer, Madeline picked up a lavender shirt from the same table and unfolded it by switching the fingers in her hand.
"It has writing on it," the woman noted.
"No way."
Madeline threw the shirt back on the table and scanned the whole store quickly. She walked pass the table and headed towards one of the racks with wheels. She spotted a plain, lavender T-shirt and took it by the hanger. She replaced that tee with the baby blue tee from earlier. She quickly walked back to the woman and held up the shirt.
"See? Lavender."
"Thank you," the woman said. "Wait... wouldn't I look better in teal?"
Madeline rapidly threw down her arms. "Do you even have money?"

Later, Madeline waited for more customers while doodling in a pink notebook of a flower on the counter. Instantly, she heard someone enter from the sounds of light yet audible footsteps. She turned her attention to the customer and said in a tired to intrigued voice:
"Welcome to the Pink Tee and it just got better."
The customer, who was a young male with a buff chest and gelled back brown hair, smiled at Madeline. "Hi," he greeted.
Madeline closed her notebook. "Hello. I'm Madeline."
"Oh, fancy name."
"I know, right? May I help you?"
"Yeah, I would like to know if you have any frilly shirts."
"Oh, you're buying for a girlfriend?"
"No, I don't have a girlfriend."
"Music to my ears."
"I'm buying something for my mother. Her birthday is coming up and she likes frilly things."
"Then your mother and I have something in common. Not to sound weird."
The boy laughed. "I'm Guy."
"Darn right it is. The frilly shirts are in the back. On second thought, I'll get them."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it. I love doing things for people."
Madeline walked out from behind the counter and rushed across to the back of the store. Once she spotted the shirts, she grabbed three of them from their hangers and rushed back to Guy.
"Tell me what you like," she said seductively, holding up the shirts.
"Well, I like you."
"Oh, stop."
"Sorry."
"No, it means keep going."
Guy chuckled. "I think my mom will like the orange one."
Madeline dropped all of the shirts except the orange one. "Then orange you shall receive."
"Are you French?"
Madeline walked back around the counter while answering, "Yes; how did you know?"
Guy leaned towards the counter. "You just have this rich feel to yourself."
"Well, I used to be rich. But now only my parents are rich. I guess it just hasn't worn off of me yet."
"That's not what I meant but I can roll with that. Can you say something in French?"
Madeline scanned the tag of the shirt with a bulky device. "Tu es mignon et je veux ton numero de telephone."
"Cool. What does that mean?"
"You are cute and I want your phone number."
"Oh, I thought I heard 'telephone' in there."
Madeline giggled. "That will be sixty dollars."
"Sixty dollars for a shirt?"
"Hey, I didn't come up the prices. I'll tell you what: give me your number and I'll lower the price to twenty bucks."
When Madeline said that, her manager Penelope walked in and witnessed the action.
"Oh, you fox," Guy commented. "Deal."
Madeline grinned. She took the twenty dollars that Guy handed her after reaching into his pocket. While Madeline handled the cash register, Guy pulled out a tiny piece of paper and started to write down on it with the pen Madeline used to doodle. Madeline put the orange, frilly shirt into a Pink Tee plastic bag and gave it to Guy. In return, he gave her the paper with his number on it.
After receiving the paper, Madeline said, "Oh, what does the fox say?"
The two teenagers laughed and said their goodbyes before Guy left the store. Afterwards, Penelope marched towards the counter, startling Madeline.
"Did you just give that boy a discount?" she asked.
"Um... define 'discount'."
"I did not say you can do that with customers."
"Sorry but did you see that guy? I mean he was hot."
"I'm twenty-five with a boyfriend."
"Like that makes a difference."
"Mad, you're not the manager; I am. And whatever you're going to do that I won't approve, you should ask me first."
"My name is Mad-e-line and why would I ask for something you wouldn't approve of?"
"Because it's more considerate."
"Penelope, if you understood me, you would understand this whole process. Okay, I am trying to make a living."
"Well, you can forget about making that living because you're fired."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"You can't do that!"
"Yes, I can because I'm the manager."
"Oh, come on."
"You better get out of here and give me back your employee uniform in five minutes or I'm calling the cops."
"It's not a uniform; it's a shirt that looks like a regular shirt."
"Don't care. Just get out." Penelope walked away toward her office which was in the corner of the store.
"I've only been here for three days. Please, Penelope."
"Oh, wham, bam, green eggs and ham."
"Don't quote bad Adam Sandler movies to me!"

Have Fun Working at the Mall (Chapter 3)

Two days later, Madeline made a trip by herself at the mall. She thought if she can get a job, she should do it all by herself. She stopped by a store called "The Pink Tee". She noticed that it did not have many customers as the other stores in the mall. She decided to walk in and immediately fell in love with the scenery, which mostly consisted of the color pink.
"Welcome to the Pink Tee," said the brunette employee behind the counter. "May I help you?"
"Um, yes," Madeline answered. "Are you hiring?"
"Of course. I'm the only person who works here."
"Really?"
"Yes. Isn't it obvious?"
"Yes."
"I know. And since I was the only one working here, I've been made manager."
"Cool."
"Isn't it? But I do get lonely sometimes."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's okay; I have a boyfriend at home."
"Cool... again. So you said you're hiring?"
"Yeah; if you want to work here, you have to make an appointment for an interview."
"Okay, shall I make an appointment?"
"Sure." The employee bent down and picked up a clipboard with a yellow paper clipped on it. She sat it on the counter and picked up the pen attached to it by a string. "How about now?"
"My appointment? Now?"
"Yes. Unless you have something better to do."
"Well, I do but I can make an appointment for now."
The employee scribbled on the paper. She bent down again and pulled out a packet of paper which she sat down on top of the clipboard. "Okay, let's start this interview." She picked up her pen to get ready to write down answers. "What's your full name?"
"Madeline Louise King."
"I call you 'Mad King'."
"Ooh, royal."
"How old are you?"
"Sixteen and three quarters."
"Writing 'sixteen'. What is your nationality?"
"Why does that matter?"
"So I know you're not a Nazi."
"You sound like my dad. I'm Canadian; on the French part, of course. Je parle francais et anglais avec un peu de--"
"Yeah, I don't know what you're saying. But since you speak French, I'll write that down. How many jobs have you had?"
"Zero. I used to find them disgusting. But that changed."
"Okay, do you have any criminal records?"
"No, but I think I know a friend who has some."
"Fun. What are your abilities?"
"I can speak people down."
"What does that mean?"
"It is sort of like winning an argument."
"I win arguments all the time with my boyfriend."
"Sweet. I am also good at persuading and not just good, really good."
"That's really good to hear. Have you ever been expelled from school?"
"Good heavens, no. Perfect attendance."
"Okay."
"Should I bring in my report cards?"
"You have them with you?"
"No but I kept all of them."
"Let me guess: you get straight A's.
"All the time."
"Nice to hear. Do you have any tattoos that I should know about?"
"Why do tattoos--"
"Just answer the question!"
"Okay! No, I don't have any tattoos and I don't plan on getting any because I heard they hurt and I can't handle hurt."
"Okay, that is the whole interview."
"Really?"
"Yes; I'll let you know if you got the job in three seconds."
Madeline awkwardly waited for three seconds to go by.
"Okay, you got the job."
Madeline gasped. "Really?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Man, that was easy. When do I start?"
"Now."
"Now?"
"Yes. I will give you your Pink Tee shirt and your shift will start right after that. By the way, my name is Penelope."
"Penelope, we're moving way too fast."

Have Fun Working at the Mall (Chapter 2)

A couple days later, Madeline met up with her friends at the cafeteria in school. She began to start the conversation with the subject of her being urged to find somewhere to work.
"Now I immediately have to find a job," said Madeline, "or else, I'm grounded. But I still have to get the car fixed for the little scratch I made."
"Why did you put a scratch on the car again?" asked Debra.
"I was protesting!"
"Peacefully?"
"Sort of. I mean, I did hurt a car so maybe not that peacefully."
"You're such a princess," Andrea said sarcastically.
"So you had a fit because you have to get a job?" questioned Lizzie.
"Yes, it appears so I did."
"So... what's wrong with getting a job?"
"Hello? It will affect my dignity."
"Your dignity?" inquired Skye.
"Getting a job is not embarrassing," said Lizzie.
"It is if you're me," responded Madeline.
"Then I feel so sorry for you."
"There's nothing wrong with getting a job, Maddie," said Andrea. "Of course, there is something wrong with getting fired from a job."
"Were you fired from your last job?" asked Lizzie.
"Yes, sadly."
"How did you get fired?" asked Skye.
"I got into a fight with one of the customers. They gonna tell me how a phone works; I'm the employee!"
"Andrea, how many jobs have you been fired from?"
"Seven."
"How many jobs have you had?"
"Seven. What? I don't learn!"
"Because of fights?"
"Because of fights."
"Good thing I never been where you worked at," Lizzie commented.
"Well, it would be a good thing if you were racist. I mean not the racist part; the whole 'coming in the store' thing."
"You wouldn't have to worry about that. I understand your Mexican background so it's all good."
"I'm not just Mexican."
"What?"
"Guys, can we focus on me?" asked Madeline. "I need to know the advantages of going to work."
"That's easy," said Skye. "You can get paid. I get paid nine dollars an hour when I work part-time at the instrument store."
"I get paid ten dollars an hour when I work every summer at the surf shack," Debra added.
"Why, aren't you a lucky duck?"
"Nine and ten does not make that much of a difference."
"Oh, it makes that big of a difference. Nine is a random number."
"It does not matter. Ten minus nine equals one, meaning we're one dollar apart."
"But do you know what I could've bought if I could have had just one dollar?"
"It's not a big deal. I mean it could if you include tips."
"You get tips?"
"Hey, don't ignore the powers of the surf shack."
"I thought you work at a bead shop," said Lizzie.
"No, it is a bead shop," responded Debra. "We just call it a 'surf shack' because it is surrounded by a lot of surf shacks."
"Why can't you get the store to move out of the beach?" Madeline questioned.
"Where else am I going to sell my beads?"
"Who buys beads at the beach?"
"Uh, I do."
"No, true that. True that; I feel you."
"Alright, Maddie, getting a job is not a big of a deal," Andrea jumped in. "You just think it's a big of a deal because you never had to work. But once you get one, you'll comprehend a way of receiving money and it will become a piece of cake. Besides, you go to school every day and we work there. Going to school is like completing a job that is never-ending and if you want out, find your way out. But overall, working is nothing."
"Okay," Madeline responded, "I trust you."
"And you don't trust all of us?" inquired Skye.
"Of course I do, Skye. I trust all of you. If getting a job is not as bad as it sounds, then I shouldn't be a brat about it."
"Good."
"That's the spirit, Maddie," smiled Lizzie. "And you're lucky that your parents are making you get a job. Mine won't let me anymore."
"Why not?" asked Debra.
"Because my parents say that I am known as a 'fire hazard'. I don't know what they mean by that but I hope it's translation for 'You're really special!'"
"Yeah, that's what it's translation for," Andrea cleared her throat.
"And I thought nine was a prime number."
"Now I rest my case."

Have Fun Working at the Mall (Chapter 1)

Madeline read from her science textbook on her pink-sheeted bed while taking notes. She flipped the page of the textbook and read aloud silently. She then stopped and made a face.
"Did they just say 'astro' means 'of planets'?" she asked herself. "No, no, no. 'Astro' means 'of stars'. I need to have a talk with my teacher. Or the publisher. Hashtag-That-Moment-When you are smarter than a textbook."
Soon after, Madeline's father entered her bedroom. "Hey, Madeline," he started, "your cousin Miranda  has a birthday coming up. You need to get her card."
"A car? Isn't she turning fourteen?"
"Card, not car."
"Oh, my ears apologize. Can you buy a card for me?"
"No, you have money. So you can get the card yourself."
"Ooh, about that. I spent most of my 'allowance' on some rings."
"Since when do you wear rings?"
"Since 2010."
"So you don't have enough for a card?"
"Nope."
"Okay, how many times have I told you to save your money?"
"Zero?"
"Plenty! What if there was an emergency?"
"I'd call 911."
"But what if they were unavailable?"
"How can 911 be unavailable?"
"The Nazis got them."
"Nazis still exist?"
"Look, smarty-pants, you have been spending way too much money on clothes, accessories and teenage glamour. We need a family conference."
"No! No family conference."
"Michelle!"
"No, don't yell out mom's name!"
Madeline's father began to leave. "Michelle!"
"Oh, you did it a second time."
Madeline slid off her bed and exit her bedroom. She followed her dad who was seen walking down the stairs. She walked after him until he went outside of the house to stop by Madeline's mom, who was relaxing in a chair on the porch.
"Michelle," Madeline's father captured the mother's attention.
Michelle took off her sunglasses. "Hi, sweetie."
"Michelle, we need to have a family conference."
"You're not divorcing me, are you?"
"No, honey cakes. I don't want all of my money to be stripped away from me. We need a family conference because we need to teach Madeline more about economical responsibilities."
"No, you don't need to teach me more about economical responsibilities," Madeline commented.
"What are economical responsibilities?" asked Michelle.
"I think we give Madeline too much money," said the father.
"I think you give me the right amount of money, okay?" replied Madeline.
"I think so, too," agreed Michelle.
"Michelle, we obviously do," the father started. "We give her money and she doesn't do much of her chores, she talks back occasionally, and she spends the money on frivolous things. Like her earrings. Earrings that big can rip your ears off."
Madeline covered her ears, which were hanging a web of big, brown jewels. "Don't talk to my earrings that way."
"She even speaks to her jewelry and refer them as people. Who does that?"
"I do that sometimes," replied Michelle.
"Well, that's bonkers. Either way, we are treating Madeline a little too nicely and I think it's time for her to get a job."
"Ugh!" uttered Madeline. "That word stings my ears."
"Job, job, job, job!"
Madeline covered her ears again and groaned.
"You're hurting her, Greg," said Michelle.
"Come on, sweetie," said Greg. "Don't you think Madeline should get a job? She's old enough."
"She is sixteen. Maybe her working wouldn't be so bad."
"Be so bad?" repeated Madeline. "We are rich; I don't think I need a job."
"You shouldn't get a job because we're rich?" asked Greg. "You should get a job to accept responsibility for once in your life. I'm tired of handing you money when you just waste it on things you don't need."
"Then can I just spend it on important things?"
"No because you will just buy something for yourself behind our backs. You're going to be an adult soon, Madeline. It's time that you do something similar to what we do."
"Mom?"
"He's right, sweetheart," said Michelle. "If you want money, you got to work for it."
"This is ludicrous!"
"Don't you curse on this porch, young lady," said Greg. "Either start working or live in this house penniless."
"I-I-- I don't believe this. You never made me work but when I have no money at all, you just force me to do something I don't want to do?"
"That's what parenting all about."
Madeline groaned before walking into the street in front of the house. She marched towards the black car parked within the road.
"What are you doing now?" asked Greg.
"I'm protesting!" shouted Madeline.
"Oh, stop acting childish, Madeline."
Madeline raised her arm and formed her hand into a claw. "I let my nails grow so paint them French style."
"What does that mean? You're just going to scratch the car?"
"Oh, yeah. And my nails are long enough to get dirt inside. But in this scenario, they're long enough to get Nissan inside."
"Madeline, don't be ridiculous."
Madeline laid her clawed hand in front of the car's passenger door. "I'm going to do it."
"Really? Is that the best you got? I'm not going to throw a fit over an attempted car scratch."
Madeline slowly scratched the door with her long fingernails, making visible, long marks.
"Wait! Stop!" Greg whined. "Not my baby!"
"Who's acting childish now?" said Michelle to herself while putting her sunglasses back on.