The Way of Fate (Book 1)

2. Fired or Hired

Chapter 2: Fired or Hired

Mika

I tried my hardest not to gag. Kneeing on the bathroom floor, I tried not breathing in the disgusting odor of the urinal that I was supposed to clean. You don't notice how gross these things are until you're this up close and personal with one. I never wanted to do this again.

But boss's orders. I needed to do what he told me or else I'd lose this job too. I couldn't afford to lose another job. At this point, I don't know anyone else who would hire me, with a track record like mine, barely keeping a job for more than a couple months.

And if that meant cleaning urinals, then I was cleaning urinals.

God, why couldn't guys just aim properly? I think after tonight, I never wanted to use another urinal again, no matter how much quicker they were. I'd feel too bad for whoever needed to clean it every day.

I was still attempting to clean the stupid thing some time later, when my boss barged into the small restroom. "Mika! What are you still doing in here? You were supposed to be done with the bathroom half an hour ago! We're about to open!"

I rolled my eyes at his attempt to be commanding. Honestly, I just wanted to laugh. This whole scene was ridiculous. Here he was, standing there, all mad-like, fifty pounds overweight, which was obviously sticking out of the pants he used to wear when he was eighty pounds skinnier. Intimidating, my ass.

"Maybe I wouldn't have taken so long if you had put me on a different task. You know I can handle anything else you put me on."

His face started turning a shade of red. "Did you just talk back to me?"

"Well that's what a conversation is, isn't it?" I asked, already fed up with this guy. "You talk, then I talk, then you talk again? I was just holding up my end of the conversation, Mr. Harding."

"I'm done with your bullshit, Michael."

Oh that does it. He knows that's not my name. I hated that version. "It's Mikael, not Michael. I'm not some white boy." Although, technically I was white, I think. But that's what my parents named me, and I never got a chance to ask why or even ask what they were considered to be. So I go by my name. It's all I have left.

"You know what you are?" He paused and I just shrugged, already knowing where this was going. "You're fired. Get the fuck out of this building. And never come back!"

This was definitely a new one, getting fired in a bathroom over a dirty urinal. As much as I hated losing my job, I was so glad to be free of that place. And at least I still had the rest of the day to look for a new job.

Walking out of the store, I kept my head held high. I wasn't going to be ashamed of being fired. It wasn't my first time, and it probably wouldn't be my last. Stores like that just weren't a good fit for me. Granted, they were usually the only places that would hire me, at least, until they realized I didn't belong there.

I didn't even know what I planned to do with my life. Never have, which is probably how I ended up here. High school drop out and jumping between jobs every few months. But it could be worse. I could be living in the streets again. At least I sort of had a place to live. It had a roof and four walls, and that's all that mattered to me.

Maybe I should start looking into something else. Maybe something that would pay more. I wouldn't even know where to look that I haven't already.

Walking down the street, I counted. Out of the eight stores on this block alone, I've been fired from five, quit one, and the other two refused to hire me because of that track record I've developed.