All Or Nuttin’
***Trigger Warning***
The following story deals with sexual crimes.
Monday 8:00 am
How exciting the evening was! I came up with a brilliant plan. To improve society, improve the environment! To lower sexual crimes, get rid of sexual offenders.
Well… that part may be farfetched. BUT my business is the best place to start. Start small.
I should start at the beginning. The other night, I was on my computer, reflecting on the possibilities. I began with my usual thought process, what is wrong with the moral at my bowling business? How can I improve the conditions to make the environment accessible and well kept as possible?
However, my number one priority is making my workers happy. Everyone knows when workers are happy, the customers are too. Happy, satisfied employees mean happy customers, which means more business.
As the founder, owner, and manager of All or Nuttin’ (my grandfather is an entrepreneur, and he took it upon himself to suggest that name. For lack of ideas, I went along with it. Wish I had spent more thought into the name).
I’m not one to complain though. All or Nuttin’ is in condition, for the most part. It is a nice building on the outside. The neon signs make themselves at home to the window. The lights are always flickering. Need to get them replaced sometime soon.
I paint the walls with a shade of eggshell white. Though nowadays the resemble a cracked boiled egg. Have to get that fixed soon.
I am proud of the interior of the building. Everything is evenly spaced. There are the lanes that line up the smooth path of tiles. Sturdy and never rock to any side — a smart investment on my part. The front desk is the size of an apartment room. Most of it dedicated to the alleys themselves. The concession stand is on the far right side. There’s always the smell of wet hot dogs there.
Why do the customers like them? I despise the smell.
What was I saying earlier? Ah yes, the plan from my brain juices.
My employees Owen and Earl always have conversations. They talk in between their regular duties and during breaks. They greet each other with a fist bump and act so enthusiastic around each other. I’d say they are good friends.
I don’t see them leave each other’s sides. They are always talking about mannish things like video games and guns. Well, on that day, they talked about their sex lives. It was near closing time, so it was only them and me.
Owen mentioned how he wasn’t getting much attention from his girlfriend, Miriam. I left the room after hearing that part.
I found that hard to believe. Of course, it was a small town with a lower employee count. We used to have a lot more employees, but they all resigned. They wanted to go somewhere better, somewhere with more business with a more successful boss (That was the last girl’s words, at least).
So, I was thinking about their conversation when the craziest thought hit me in my cerebellum. What if the workers had the freedom to have sex with their boss? It appalled me by what my brain hatched. Why on Earth would we do that? It’s a lonely environment, but not that lonely.
Despite my obvious disgust by the idea, my brain kept thinking, it’s a brilliant idea. It will satisfy your workers, their most basic needs. They’ll work harder! I can inspire loyalty and closeness. This is brilliant. How do businesses not think to do this idea?
People told me I rarely filter my thoughts, and I should watch what I say. Personally, I see little point in that. Unfiltered thoughts reveal more of me to others. Why show a fake side of myself them? I need to show everyone I am open and honest with the world and myself.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will tell them. It may be an odd idea, but I’m certain I can convince them.
Tuesday 9:45 am
I told them the idea, Early and Owen. They stared at me in disbelief. So, I explained my reasoning. Their mouths were open as though this was the first time, they heard of something like this. Before I could say anything else, Owen spoke up. “Boss, are you joking?”
“Joking?” I reply. “No, this is no joke. This is quite a possibility the most revolutionary idea of all time.”
“Revolutionary?” Earl says. He shook his head. “This stuff’s reserved for private lives.” Owen chuckles. “You-you know what I mean.”
Such strong reactions. A compromise should help. “Why are you two concerned? If it has to do with time constraints, I propose we spend time on your breaks.”
This did not sit well with the two, particularly Owen. “This is too weird. I’m not… forget it! I’m not doing that.”
I don’t understand. What strong reactions. How could they-
Before I knew it, they both hung up their hats and name cards. They each left a note-they quit.
I did not stop them. They’ll come back, say they’ve changed their minds and that we join up.
Tuesday 10:00 pm
They never came back. I waited a long thirty minutes, and still, the two did not come back. It hurt in a way. Like a slap in the face.
I did a lot of reflecting. So much so that my brain hurt. Still, I don’t understand. There’s nothing wrong with sex. The only thing wrong with it is the people who make it a bad thing — all the talk about rape, unplanned pregnancies and too much of that negativity.
And they’re men! Men like sex. That’s in their nature. That’s in our nature. If we did not make sex a bad thing to talk about, to do, the other work environments would follow suit. If we recognized that, sex wouldn’t be as taboo as anything that is taboo.
After more consideration, a thought occurred. Maybe Earl and Owen thought they would lose their jobs if they had sex with me. Don’t get me wrong; they both work hard. However, if I were to pick which one was more hardworking, it would be Owen.
While it is an understandable fear, but I thought I clarified that I gave the go. I am okay with it. I consented, but still, they did not take that chance. Is there a different reason behind it?
No, they are not ready for that commitment. These underlings, when they come back, they will find that they should have taken that chance. Because by then, I will find more people. People who will jump at the opportunity to do it. That’ll make them eager, and then business will boom!
Wednesday 8:00 am
I called my grandfather to see if he can connect me with possible employees. He said he heard rumors I was desperate for attention.
“That’s what I need! That’ll attract people. They’ll come in and work-”
“You’re delusional if you think that,” my grandfather told me.
“Not that,” I said. That will not faze me. “I know it. Now if you can give me advice on how to create a catchy slogan that will be helpful.”
“Mary, you didn’t give me a chance to finish. The rumors going about you are not good. People think you’ll have sex with anybody.” He paused a moment. “They think you’re a slut.”
“So what’s the problem?” I asked the question.
My grandfather gasped. “How could you not need the problem, Mary? Mary,” he sounded breathless, as though his lungs braced for his word. “When your reputation gets bad, the rest of your business will follow suit. People will always talk, and right now things are not looking good for you. What you need to do first is face the rumors head-on.”
“I know what you’re saying,” I tell him. “And I know exactly what to do.”
“Okay, you think you know what to do, or you know you know what you want to do?”
I laughed. My grandfather can be so absurd. “I know grandfather. This conversation does not seem to be going anywhere so goodbye.”
My grandfather said something, but I hung up quicker than he could utter it. Having a reputation is an admirable thing. The fact that people have something to say about me is fantastic.
I rummaged through my closet until I found my microphone. People will hear my words, hear the sort of person I am.
Friday 3:00 pm
It has been quite some time since I wrote. I don’t feel like writing all the details, so I’ll summarize what happened since the shittiest day of the week: Wednesday.
Everything was going fine. I put up the help-wanted sign, cleaned the counters, operated the bowling machines, and the other stuff. If it weren’t for the jukebox, the place would be quiet.
Then a girl came into the doors. She was young, about seventeen. Told me she needed a job to support her and her sister. I hired her, deciding that I will inquire about her life later.
On Thursday, she arrived about ten minutes late. She apologized profusely. I told her it was all right then inquired what was wrong.
She told me that her life is in shambles. “Boy troubles?”
I half listened to her for a bit. It sounded just like a dramatic story about people who refuse to communicate. She is fortunate to have a boss willing to make sure she’s happy. I asked her if there’s anything I could do to make sure she’s happy.
“I dunno, whatever you come up with.”
Then I told her my idea. She got up and ran out of the store. I was sure she had something urgent to take care of. Convenient that it was right after I told her my idea.
Fifteen minutes later she came back with the police. They asked me if I told the girl I would have sex with her. I told them yes, and that I saw nothing wrong with that.
… you can probably guess where I am right now.
