Naomi of Nob Hill

Life was hell right now, Naomi sighed out loudly, her eyes raised toward the heavens....”God”, she called out, “Let me sleep, why me, why now.....Please...make‘em all go away..... Lord, please help me find any job that pays more than just my rent!” She swung around, reached under her bed, got hold of a half empty gallon bottle of cheap Chablis. She unscrewed the cap and filled her empty coffee cup to the rim. The wine was warm but soothing. Lying down on her bed, Naomi reminisced about her past and thought about all the ups and downs she had gone through in life. Well, at least she had her health, she thought, and with this she finally was able to go to sleep. Just four months ago, Naomi lost her low paying and mind numbing quality control job at Associated Pool Supplies. Bruce Rutherford, her supervisor was a jerk. That sleazy old two faced bastard wanted her to work late, wait until everyone was gone for the day and hit her up for “personal favors,” like skinny dipping in one of the sales room’s hot tubs. She had to put up with this for too long because she really needed a pay check. However, lately, Naomi just couldn’t fake the enthusiasm for this any longer to please the jerk. He retaliated and started interviewing new “talent,” hired a new girl and let Naomi go. It was as hot as blazes. Her window air conditioner had not worked for several days when Pete Fox, the apartment manager, pounded impatiently on her front door. “Hey Naomi, open up, I need some rent money, this ain’t a shelter for homeless hookers.” He then hollered “you give me some sugar, sweet thing, and I will let you stay a few more days!” “Screw you Pete” she yelled back through the closed door, raising her eyes to the heavens above... oh crap, what now, what next, she thought? Whenever she was in a jam like that, she took the back fire escape, so no one knew that she was coming or going. She walked for almost an hour to the wharf, sat down on a bench and grabbed a copy of the Chronicle that someone left behind before the wind would blow it away. Suddenly she held on to that newspaper like her life depended on it and tried to turn the pages to the classifieds. The wind was annoying, but she finally managed to handle the mangled newspaper pages and find the job section. Help wanted... it read. Yup how low can you go, she said to herself, reading the personals and the employment columns. Help wanted – fish market, help wanted - hospital aid, etc., etc. And then there it was: ‘Wanted, cleaning help, single female, non-smoker, non-drinker only.’ In-house accommodations and meals provided. Long term employment desired. Apply in person at Nob Hill Estates between 9 am and 5 pm. “Wow... that’s the one” she said. Thank you Jesus, Halleluiah! Naomi’s mind exploded, how old was that newspaper, she asked herself? What day was it today anyway? Summoning all her all her thoughts, she shouted across the path to a young professional looking female jogger. “Hey miss ... excuse me... what day is it today?” “Monday....you moron, get a job, and quit living of my tax dollars you bitch,” she yelled back. “Wow, I must look like a derelict, does it really show?” she thought. Cramming the classified section into her overstuffed bag, she started walking back to her apartment. “I’ve got to make myself lookin’ nice n’ clean, an’ get my big ass into gear”, she thought to herself. She started picking up her pace, faster than she ever remembered. There was something in the back of her mind that told her that her luck might be changing. Sneaking up the fire escape to her apartment as quiet and as fast as she could, to avoid Pete, she suddenly felt a tremendous sense of rush and urgency. May be this job was still available and may be this would be her ticket of out of this stressful mess. Naomi was tired of her life and her circumstance, she was sooo ready to start over and get away from her current situation. She started snickering in her mind, while imagining herself living in a free live-in situation on a private estate, with a phone that’s not in her name and an address to hide away from those pesky collection agencies. She delighted in the thought of Pete Fox, the jack ass rent collector, having to get a locksmith to enter her apartment just find it empty! Wishful thinking, she thought. She took out her best Sunday church dress and her best shoes, even put on stockings. Naomi felt, she was on a mission.