Confessions of a Call Center Gal - By Lisa Lim Page 0,36

was well worth it.

Mika bears an uncanny resemblance to both Zacs. He’s a cross between Efron and Levi, so I’ve sort of gotten my Mika fix for tonight.

I glance at the clock. It’s 2 a.m. and Kars isn’t even home yet. In my guesstimation, she’s out on a late night, secret, rendezvous with Bob the Knuckle Headed Builder.

Sigh. I feel so sorry for his wife. Oh, to suffer the betrayal of a wayward spouse. I try to remove myself from the situation, but I can’t help but feel a stab of sadness and disappointment.

Disappointment in Kars.

Just the other day, Truong tried to defend her actions, saying that sometimes things are not so black and white, but I disagree. Some things are black and white.

He is a married man; what is so gray about that? How much more black and white can a marriage certificate be?

But then again, who am I to even judge? I myself was pining after Mika while he was still dating Ingeborg.

I glance at the clock again. It’s getting late.

No use waiting up for Kars when it’s highly unlikely she’ll be coming home tonight.

Flicking off the lights, I amble groggily to bed.

My talk with Kars will have to wait until tomorrow.

Beep! Beep!

Jarred awake, I’m in a state of complete confusion.

“Thanks for calling Lightning—”

Whhhaa? Wait a minute! I’m not at work.

I glance blearily around. A flood of cherry blossom sunshine pours through the slanted venetian blinds. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the glare.

Okay, I’m definitely not at work. I’m in my bedroom. Thank God! I flop facedown onto my duvet.

Beep! Beep!

Huh? There goes that beeping sound again.

Beep! Beep!

Oh d’oh! It’s the doorbell.

Rubbing my eyes, I tumble out of bed and stagger to the front door. Yes, yes, I’m coming. Hold yer horses will ya?

Throwing open the door, I come face to face with Janis.

“Miss Higginbotham.” I stifle a yawn. “Come in. I’m sorry but Karsynn’s not here.”

Janis glides across the room and sinks gracefully onto the sofa.

After adjusting her zebra print skirt, she eyeballs me. “I came to see you.”

“Me? Oh, okay.” I plop down next to her.

Without preliminaries, Janis forges full speed ahead, “I know Karsynn is seeing that bastard Bob Seely. I’ve tried talking some sense into her, but she’s just so stubborn. And this is not the first time that Bob’s crossed the line; he’s had lots of affairs at work in the past.”

“But why do these girls fall for him?” I scratch my head. “It’s not like he’s the catch of the century. Nor is he remotely a catch at all.”

Janis purses her lips. “Do you remember when Bill Clinton was president?”

Of course I do.

“Even back then, Bill wasn’t conventionally handsome; yet I had the biggest crush on him.” Janis sighs and stares out the window.

I follow her gaze, but I don’t see anything unusual except for the magnificent Rocky Mountains staring back at me. What a view!

Janis snaps out of her reverie. “It’s a power thing, Maddy. Women are fascinated by men in power. Look at skinny Obama with his Mickey Mouse ears; women still find him sexy.”

“But—but Bob Seely is an oversized toad. And he’s just some lame supervisor at a call center.”

Janis smiles wryly. “Power is power my dear. Some women just find it attractive.”

“I just don’t understand why Kars is with someone like Bob. He’s such a douchelord; even in college, she dated these jerks who treated her like dirt.”

After a pregnant pause, Janis takes a deep breath. “I’m going to share a bit of my past with you. I’ve kept it hidden from a lot of people, but it may help you understand why Kars is the way she is.”

I sit up straighter. Janis has my full attention.

A sullen look clouds her usually cheerful facade. “I may seem carefree now, but I wasn’t always this way. I was diagnosed with severe depression and I battled it for sixteen years. My husband at the time—Karsynn’s dad—couldn’t handle my illness.” She averts her eyes. “It was so bad that I flirted with suicide once or twice.”

A short gasp escapes my lips.

In a strained voice, she continues, “And so he left us.”

“But Kars told me that her dad’s in prison.”

Janis manages a half-smile. “Well he left us, and then months later, he was incarcerated. Under California’s three strikes law, once you’re convicted of a felony three times, that’s it—you’re in the slammer for at least twenty-five years.”

“So he’s locked up forever?”

Janis nods gravely. “Karsynn’s dad…well he wasn’t much of

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