This was a short story written for Decameron 2.0. I was given the theme Revenge, and I have to admit that I was a little nervous. There is more than a little part of me that would like to think the world is made up of rainbows and lollypops. In the end, I must have tapped into a different part of me, because I really had a lot of fun writing it (insert evil grin here).
Take this job and shove it takes on a whole new meaning when Miranda decides to quit.
"I quit! I quit! I quit." Miranda shouted in a window rattling crescendo. She couldn't wait to say those words for real to her boss instead to the car radio that insisted on cutting in and out. She pulled into her regular parking spot at the back of the grimy, grease spot of a garage where she had worked for two years as a receptionist. She got out of her car, and the smell of antifreeze and oil assaulted her nostrils even before she walked into through the broken back door. Everything in this place seemed to be broken - other than the corvette that Darryl, her boss had restored and was parked in a spot of honor at the bottom of the driveway.
Tomorrow morning bright and early she was heading north, and the excitement and anticipation pricked anxiously at her skin. Six months ago, she had finished all of her qualifications she needed to become a bush pilot, and next week she all her hard work was going to pay off as she started her first day of work at her dream job. Today she was going to pick up her last pay cheque, and walk out the door for the last time, but not before she planned to exacted a little revenge to the jerks that had insulted and taken advantage of her since the day she started.
Darryl ran the garage with impunity as if it was his own little kingdom, overcharging customers while leaving their cars unfixed and lying about how much time he spent on them. She had wanted to quit a hundred times before. She hadn't wanted to be a receptionist, she wanted to learn about cars, how they worked. She had thought that if she did, she could transfer some of the skills to her plane, one day when she got one. She knew she needed some mechanical experience, after all, if something went wrong in those remote northern villages, then there might not be anyone to help. She had taken all the shop classes in high school, and worked with her Dad when he fixed their car, but this was supposed to help her take her meager skills a little further, even if a plane wasn't exactly the same as a car. Everything Darryl had promised when he hired her had been a lie. She should have known that as he slapped her on the ass as she walked out of the interview. At the time, she had been startled, and on hindsight, she should have walked out the door and never looked back, but she had been desperate for the job. Getting your pilot's license was expensive, and getting the flight hours she needed was even more expensive. Today, putting up with all that crap was going to finally pay off, and she was going to put a few wrongs to right before she left for that final glorious time.