Sylvie: Chapter One
TL;DR - Sylvie's story is about a skunk in the city looking for employment. Chapter One is about receiving a job offer from an unanticipated business.
Sylvie is a young-ish skunk not exactly new to the city but not having much luck with finding a job. Her most recent interview does not go well and she goes to the waterfront to try and collect her thoughts when she's approached with a job offer from Firgil, the proprietor of High Tails. She has her suspicions about what the actual job will entail but, as she has no other job prospects, at least agrees to check it out, if nothing other than for the offered free meal.
I began writing, off and on, about Sylvie's life over a decade ago as an aside to my actual writing intended for publication. As I recently passed two hundred pages and realize I have much further to go with her I decided it was time to share her with the world, for good or for ill. I've done my best to clean up my writing but if you see anything that really bothers you let me know. Also know, I pretty much have the near future for her already written. If you want to suggest something go ahead but know I may or may not be able to use it. I would prefer you not use my characters without at least asking first.
Sylvie sat on the bench feeling frustrated and ready to cry. Three job interviews in two days had lead to nothing but wasted time and, with rent due in a week, she had little prospect of getting the money by next Friday. True, she could ask her mother, but she was not going through that_again. She knew Ms. Xi would extend the due date a week, at a penalty of ten percent every day Sylvie was late. No, it wasn't a good situation where she lived but as a young-_ish skunk in city she had few options.
Unwrapping her lunch, if one could call it that, she set the small bag of chips aside and took a bite of her cucumber sandwich. It had little taste and was already mushy but Sylvie considered saving half of it for the next day in an attempt to save money. Being woozy when she went to her next interview, if she had a next interview, would do her little good, however, and she nibbled at the sandwich until she realized it had disappeared.
The waves lapped at the shore of the beach and Sylvie wished she'd brought her bathing suit. One of the few things she could brag about was her figure, even if she had an extra curve or two, and she could make a swimsuit look damn good, if she did say so herself. It was one thing she could do to feel better about herself but, instead, she spent the next hour munching her chips and dreaming about all the beautiful fox, tiger, and wolf guys struggling to impress her with their poses and silly comments about how lovely she looked and how they would love nothing but to take care of her and all her wants. Finishing her chips, however, caused her daydream to come crashing in on itself - no one wanted a skunk for a mate.
Which brought her thoughts to the current predicament in which she found herself.
Her species, despite all she had to offer, was considered a liability, something she had discovered when she temped at an insurance company and was filing their documents. There, printed in black and white, ironically the same colours as she, was the question asking if the business employed any skunks. At first she'd thought it was a fluke or some question for statistical purposes but when she looked at the premiums the businesses paid they were always higher if a skunk worked there. She even found this out first hand when, at the end of her temp period, despite being the most skilled worker, the two bubble-headed squirrels were hired on while she was given a thankful handshake and sent out the door, landing her in the position she was now.
The anger began to gurgle again in her stomach, or maybe it was simple hunger, and she gathered her stuff in preparation to leave when she felt someone plop down on the bench next to her. She glanced and did a double take when she noticed a handsome fox looking at her with a pleasant smile on his face.
"Hello."
Sylvie stared at him for a second. "May I help you?"
"Yes, I believe you can."
Her eyes narrowed. No guy had ever approached her like this and her mind threw up a dozen caution flags. Despite her best efforts, her mother's words that guys would only want her for one reason wouldn't be suppressed.
"I'm sorry. I was just leaving."
His smile faltered. "But don't you want to know how you might help me?"
"Sir, I don't know what kind of woman you take me for but I don't do that."
A look of confusion morphed to embarrassment and he shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't start the conversation properly. My name's Firgil. A friend of mine told me a pretty skunk was looking for a job and you seemed to fit the description."
Sylvie's heart skipped a beat at the mention of a job and she put her bag back down on the bench seat. "Yes, that would be me. My name's...," her stomach grumbled again in hunger and she blushed. "I'm sorry. My name's Sylvie and, yes, I am looking for work."
"Excellent," Firgil smiled. "Do you like hot dogs?"
Sylvie knew a lost look crossed her face with his question. "Hot dogs?"
"Yes. Do you like them? It sounded like you were hungry."
He gave a nod past her and she turned to see a food cart coming their way. "Um, no," she lied. "I just ate lunch."
"Oh." He sounded disappointed. "Well, do you mind if have one? I haven't eaten yet today."
Sylvie nodded and wondered what kind of interview this was or if it was an interview at all. For all she knew, he could be some kook wasting her time...but it wasn't like she had anything else to do at the moment.
Firgil walked to the cart and purchased three hot dogs. Taking a look back at her, he seemed to size her up for a moment, then applied condiments to the hot dogs before thanking the vendor and returning to his seat beside her.
"Here," he said, extending the hot dogs toward her. "One has mustard, one ketchup, and one has both. Take one. My treat."
Not knowing what to think, she reached out and took the mustard covered one. He grinned and leaned against the back of bench, pulling the wrapper down and taking a bite.
Sylvie did likewise and, damn, if it didn't taste good to be eating something other than cucumbers. "Thank you, Mister...."
"Firgil," he said, swallowing a bite. "All my employees call me Firgil."
"Firgil."
He nodded. "What type of work have you done?"
"Most recently I worked as an office assistant. Filing, archiving. Prior to that I worked at a call center before it closed." His ears perked up at the mention of the call center and Sylvie hoped he wasn't hiring for another one. It would be money, yes, but sitting in a room all day wasn't her style.
"So you have experience in dealing with people."
"Yes, some. Sir, if I may ask--"
"Firgil," he said around a mouthful of hot dog.
"Firgil," she began again, "If I may ask, what type of business do you run?"
He swallowed the last of the second hot dog and wiped the crumbs off the front of his shirt. "I own a gentleman's club."
Sylvie stopped chewing and stared at him. "You're hiring for a strip club?"
"A crude term, but yes."
"I'm sorry," she said, feeling her hopes deflate. "Stripping isn't something I think I'd be comfortable with."
"Huh? No," he laughed. "No, I'm sorry. I know how that must have sounded. I do own a gentleman's club but I'm not hiring for dancers. I'm looking for a server."
"A server?"
"Yes. Take orders, serve food and drinks. That sort of thing."
"That sort of thing?" The job didn't sound as bad as she'd feared but she thought she could detect some sort of a catch.
"Well, there'll be additional duties."
Ah-ha! Sylvie thought. Here it comes.
"I don't have a full-time busser so you might have to clean a few tables, and there would be other odd and end things."
"Such as...."
Firgil gave another laugh. "Nothing below the table, literally or figuratively, I swear. Or after hours. Or anything else not related to being a waitress, er, excuse me, server."
"What about stripping?" The thought still nagged at the back of her mind.
"That's up to you, and you could try if it you like, but that's not what I'd be hiring you for. If you're concerned about the dress code, all I ask for is a t-shirt with nothing obscene and jeans. It's a very casual atmosphere."
Sylvie chewed on her lip in consideration and tried to find a downside to his offer. She'd never been a server before but she'd seen it done any number of times, when she'd been able to afford going out to eat, and it didn't look too difficult.
"How much does it pay?"
"I'm offering real minimum wage, not that 'restaurant workers' minimum crap, and you keep all the tips. We're only open seven hours a night but we're open all week. You can come in up to an hour early to prepare pick your days off, so long you work it out with my other servers."
It wasn't as good as the other jobs she'd been looking at but at least this was an actual job offer.
"If you don't mind, why me?"
He cocked his head in puzzlement. "I thought you were looking for a job."
"I am. It's just...I'm a skunk."
"I'm a fox." He still wore a look of confusion.
Sylvie shook her head. "I'm mean, aren't you afraid I'll...stink."
Amusement danced in his eyes and he tossed his head back and began laughing. "Do you plan on stinking?" He quoted the last word with his fingers.
"No," she said and was unable to prevent his infectious smile from spreading to her face.
"Okay. Then what's the problem?"
"My being a skunk doesn't bother you?"
"Should it?"
Sylvie shook her head. "No, but the interviews I've been on...I've been qualified for each position but as soon as they see I'm a skunk.... The job I applied for just today was for a receptionist position and I could see a look of disgust on the manager's face."
"So he's a speciest. Doesn't mean everyone is."
"You're serious. My species doesn't bother you?"
"Not the slightest." He shook his head. "My only concern is giving my customers the best service possible. Right now, with business the way it is, I need another good server. As long as you come to work clean and with a positive attitude, something which I ask of all my employees, then I couldn't care less what species you are."
"Can I have a day to think about it?" she asked. She wasn't quite sure what to make of his nonchalance. For as long as she could remember, being a skunk had only ever worked against her. She also wasn't sure a strip club was the environment she wanted to work in. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers and she didn't have any other offers at the moment.
"Tell you what. I know a gentleman's club isn't a prime business most women are looking to be employed in but I am being honest in what I say. I think you might be a good fit and I'd like to give you a chance." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it over to her. "If you'd like to come by tonight to see what it's all about, the doors open to the public at ten. Knock on the employees' entrance before then and someone will let you in. Stop by early and meet the rest of the staff and I'll treat you to dinner. If you like what you see then we can figure out a day for you to start. If not, well, at least you had dinner."
Sylvie looked at the card. High Tails it read, and gave the typical business card information. It was across town from her apartment but she knew at least one bus made a near direct route.
"Okay," she agreed. "I'll see you tonight."