Chapter 2 1

I woke up Friday morning knowing that everything was normal, and if anything, I felt more composed than usual.I went out of the bedroom to get breakfast in the kitchen, and saw Spelly sitting there sullenly.She told me that the party she went to last night was really bad.She insisted that the group of people attending the party were all students of dentistry, which made her full of irritability.She had no choice but to keep drinking, and she felt better when she was drunk. "You can't imagine how annoying that is," she said, "talking to twenty people and talking about what's inside their mouths. When I talk about how I have gum infections, they go crazy. , Even the saliva flowed out. God has eyes, most men's eyes are not only looking at your teeth, but also something else."

She was still sober, and I couldn't help but feel happy--it made me feel very healthy physically and mentally--I poured her a glass of tomato juice and made her an alkaline soda, and listened to her babble. , while echoing casually. "As if I hadn't had enough of going to work," she said.Ainsley works as an inspector in an electric toothbrush company, specializing in the quality inspection of electric toothbrushes, which is a temporary job.She hopes to open a small gallery, even if it doesn't make much money, she just hopes to make friends with painters.She told me that last year she was interested in actors, and she also made some actor friends. "Those people definitely have an abnormal fixed mentality. I think they must carry a curved mirror in their jacket pocket all day long. Every time they go to the bathroom, they always open their mouths to check their teeth, for fear of dental caries," she said. He thoughtfully raised his hand to close his long reddish-brown hair, "Think about it, can you kiss such a person? He will definitely tell you to open your mouth wider beforehand. Your mind is as dead as a log son."

"It's unbearable," I said, pouring her another glass of water, "won't you change the subject and talk to them?" Ainsley frowned; she hadn't drawn her brows that morning, so they were barely visible. "I don't," she said, "I'm pretending to be fascinated. Of course I don't want anyone to know what I'm in. Professionals would be offended if they knew you weren't an amateur either. Here." , just like Peter." Ainsley always liked to have a little bit of sarcasm about Peter, especially when she was in a bad mood.I didn't care about it, so I didn't say anything. "You'd better have something to eat before you go to work," I said, "it'll be nice to have something in your belly."

"My God," said Ainsley, "I can't bear it, and I have to deal with machines and teeth all day. There was an interesting incident last month, when the woman lost hair on her toothbrush, Returned it and we found out she had been cleaning her toothbrush with Ajax cleaner. Every day since then has been tedious.” While I was busy comforting Ainsley, I felt that I was better than her in terms of conduct, and I couldn't help but secretly proud of it. As a result, if she hadn't reminded me, I wouldn't have realized that it was getting late.Their electric toothbrush company doesn't have strict working hours, it doesn't matter how late you go, but my company is different.I didn't have time to eat eggs, so I had to drink a glass of milk in a hurry, and a bowl of cold cereal counted.I know that if I don't wait until lunch, I will be hungry.

I swallowed another piece of bread in two mouthfuls, and Ainsley looked on, making no sound, as if about to vomit, and then I grabbed my bag and rushed out, and Ainsley closed the door for me. Our room was on the top floor of a large house in an old, upper-class residential quarter, and our room had probably once been occupied by servants.That is to say, there were two flights of stairs to our room after entering the gate, the upper one was narrow and slippery, and the lower one was wide and carpeted with rug sticks that had loosened.I have to wear high heels to work, and I can't walk fast, so I have to lean on the handrail of the stairs and go downstairs sideways.That morning I passed the line of frontier brass bed warmers hanging along the wall along the upper flight of stairs, trying not to catch my clothes on the shaft of the hand spinning wheel on the second-floor landing, Then he ran quickly down the first staircase. Along the wall hung an old regimental flag in a glass frame, and a row of oval photo frames containing the portraits of the ancestors.I was relieved to see no one in the hall downstairs.Downstairs, I walked cautiously across a rubber ficus on one side and a table with ecru tea cushions and brass round plates on the other, toward the door.From behind the velvet curtain on the right came the sound of the landlady's daughter playing the piano. She practiced hard every morning.I thought I would be out of trouble.

But before I could reach the door, someone outside quietly pushed the door open, and I knew I had been ambushed.It was the landlady downstairs, wearing a pair of spotless gardening gloves and holding a small shovel, and I wondered if she was busy burying some dead body in the garden. "Good morning, Miss McCubbin," she said. "Good morning, I smiled and nodded to her. I can't remember her name, and neither does Ance. It seems we all suffer from what is called a memory block in this matter.I looked over her shoulder into the street, but she stood in the middle of the aisle and wouldn't give way.

"I wasn't home last night," she said, "to a meeting." I moved impatiently and smiled again, hoping she would understand that I was rushing to work. "Hayu told me it was on fire again." "Oh, that doesn't count as a fire," I said.As soon as the child heard that she was mentioned, he took the opportunity to leave the piano, walked into the plush carpeted aisle in front of the hall, and looked at me intently.The girl was about fifteen years old, heavy and heavy, and she was currently studying at a private girls' school, wearing a green regulation blouse and socks that came to the knees.I'm sure she's all right in every way, but she's such a thick-set guy with a bow slanted across her head, she's kind of stupid.

The landlady living downstairs took off a glove and gently patted the girl's bun. "Ah," she said softly, "the child said the house was full of smoke." "Nothing," I said, without smiling this time. "It's just burning pork chops." "Oh, that's what happened," she said. "Then, please be sure to say hello to Miss Dewes, don't make so much smoke next time, the kid can't stand it." She pointed at Ainsley alone, as if she thought she was like a villain. Like a dragon, it can emit smoke from its nose.But she never stopped Ainsley from negotiating with her in the living room, and always talked to me about things.I thought maybe she thought Ainsley was unreasonable, and I seemed like a respectable woman.This may have something to do with our clothes. Ainsley said that I always choose clothes as camouflage and protective colors for myself. I don't think there is anything wrong with this.And she likes to wear pink like neon lights.

Naturally I missed the car, and as I was crossing the grass I saw it go across the bridge with a puff of smoke.I stood under the tree and waited for the next bus. There are many trees on our street, all of which grow very tall.At this time, Ainsley ran out the door and waited for the car with me.She puts on makeup and changes clothes very quickly, I don't have that kind of ability, I can tidy up in three or two strokes.Probably because of the makeup (but it's hard to say, Ainsley is a person you can never know), but she looks much better.She has her red hair pulled back on top of her head, the way she wears it at work, and she usually lets it hang loose.She was wearing an orange-pink sundress, which I thought was too tight around the hips.It must be hot and humid today, and I already feel a little stuffy, like being wrapped in a plastic bag.Maybe I should wear a sundress too.

"I was stopped by her in the hall," I said, "about the smoke." "That old woman," Ainsley said, "will meddle in her own business." Unlike me, Ainsley didn't come from a small city and was impatient of people prying into her personal affairs.On the other hand, she is not afraid of this kind of thing, she doesn't care about the consequences at all. "She's not that old," I said, and though I knew she couldn't hear us, I glanced at the drawn window, "and besides, it was her daughter who saw the smoke, not herself. , she went out to a meeting."

"Probably the Women's Christian Temperance Union," said Ainsley, "or the Imperial Women's Mutual Aid. I bet she didn't go to any meetings at all, she just hid behind that damn velvet curtain and made us think she was out and we would go about our business.She'd love us to mess around in the house. " "Hey, Ainsley," I said, "you're very suspicious." Ainsley was convinced that the landlady must have come upstairs to our room when we were away, and she must have been shocked. Suffocated, she even suspected that the landlady had checked our letters, although she wasn't going to open them privately.However, it often happens that the guest who comes to see us opens the door before she rings the doorbell.She must have thought she had a right to take precautions: when we were negotiating the terms of the tenancy, she talked about the former tenants in a very eloquent way, and told us that we must not let the child's innocent heart be polluted under any circumstances. More reliable than the two young men. "I'm doing the best I can," she said, shaking her head with a sigh.She vaguely confided to us that her husband (whose oil portrait hangs above the piano) should have left more than that. "Of course you noticed, you have to go through the living room to get in and out of your apartment." She kept emphasizing the house's shortcomings rather than its advantages, as if trying to dissuade us from renting her house.I told her we had noticed this. Ainsley said nothing.We agreed in advance that I would be the one to negotiate, and she would sit aside and pretend to be innocent, as long as she wanted to, she could pretend to be very good--she has a round baby face with red and white, The nose is not too high, and a pair of blue eyes can stare as big as ping-pong balls.I even made her wear gloves that day. The landlady shook her head again. “If it wasn’t for the kids,” she said, “I would have sold the house. But I hope the kids grow up in a better environment.” I said that I can understand this, and she said that the situation in this area is not as good as it used to be, because some big houses cost too much to maintain, and the head of the household had to sell the house to immigrants (the corners of her mouth curled slightly), those People divide the house into small rooms for rent. "Fortunately, there is no such thing in our street," she said, "I explained it clearly to the child, telling her which street she can go and which street she can't go." I replied that this method is good.She seemed quite easygoing before signing the lease.With such low rent and close proximity to the bus station, it's hard to find such a house in this city. "Besides," I said to Ainsley again, "people have a right to comment on smoke, and what if the house catches on fire? And she never talks much about anything else." "What else? We've never messed with anything else." "Well..." I said.I suspect the landlady has noticed the bottles of wine we bring home, although I always try to make them look like regular groceries.It's true that she didn't explicitly forbid us to do things (that would be too explicit and against her rules, she doesn't show anything, just hints at it), but it just made me feel restrained, and it made me feel that everything was forbidden. It's like it can't be done. When the car came, Ainsley added, "I heard her tiptoeing up and down the stairs in the dead of night." We didn't talk in the car; I don't like talking in the car, I'd rather watch the commercials.Besides, Ainsley and I didn't have much in common, other than the landlady.I only just met her when I decided to move in, she was close to a friend of mine, she was looking for someone to live with, and I was looking for a partner, it just came together, it's very common .Maybe I should have used the computer to find roommates, but overall it was a good arrangement.She and I got along quite well, both of us making token adjustments to each other's habits, and there was little between us that vague animosity so common among women.Our place was never really clean, but we didn't let dust collect, and Ainsley and I had an agreement that if I did the dishes at breakfast, she would do it at dinner; After sweeping the living room, she wiped the kitchen table.It was an arrangement that came and went, and we both knew that if one link was missing, it would all fall apart.Of course we have our own bedrooms, and the affairs of the bedrooms are entirely personal. For example, in Ainsley's room, there are some disturbing places on the floor. She is full of worn clothes, and there are several ashtrays on the clothes, like walking. Stepping stones, although I think they are a fire hazard, are never mentioned.We restrained each other in this way—I said restrained each other, because she must not be used to some things about me—there was not much friction with each other, and we maintained a fairly stable relationship. When the subway station arrived, I bought a bag of peanuts.I'm already hungry.I got some for Ainsley, she didn't want it, and I ate them all on the way into town. We got off one stop before the southern terminus and walked another block together; our offices were on the same lot. "Oh, yes," Ainsley said as I turned my street, "you have three dollars? We're out of whiskey." I missed her, but I felt a little uneasy. We share the cost, but the consumption is hard to say.When I was ten years old I wrote an essay on alcohol abstinence for a United Church of Christ Sunday School competition, and I included pictures of drunk driving accidents, illustrations of liver disease, and diagrams of alcohol damage to the circulatory system.That's why, I think, I usually only drink one glass of wine, and whenever I pick up a second glass of wine, I always have a pastel image of a warning in my mind, and the warm grape juice of the communion will ooze from my mouth. Wet taste.This puts me at a disadvantage when I'm with Peter, who keeps asking me to have more drinks with him. As I hurried to the office building, I couldn't help feeling envious of Ainsley's work.Although my salary is higher and the work is more interesting, her job is not as rigid as mine, and she has a good idea of ​​her next plan.Her office was in a shiny new air-conditioned building, while mine was in a dark brick building with narrow windows.The nature of her work is also unusual.At parties, when people heard her introduce herself as responsible for testing the quality of electric toothbrushes, everyone was amazed, and she always replied: "What else can a bachelor's degree do at this time?" And I The nature of the work is more ordinary.I also think that her kind of work is actually more suitable for me to do.From what we've lived together, I'm pretty sure I'm better than Ainsley in terms of hands. I was three quarters of an hour late when I entered the office.No one said anything, but everyone noticed.