Chapter 86

            “There are times when you need to hibernate, you know?” Hannah asked Percy over breakfast the next morning.  They were eating omelets Percy had made with unexpected expertise.  “You need to take some time out of life, quit your job, whatever, and learn who you are all over again.  But then once you get your shit figured out, it’s scary to go back into the real world again.  No more excuses, no more vacations for a long time.”

            “You mean you don’t want to get a job?”

            “Well, yes.  I know it won’t be so bad, and it’ll be nice to not have to worry about money.  Not paying rent is awesome, but, you know.  There are things a girl needs.”

            “Gross.”

            “I don’t mean douches, for god’s sake, I was going to say a jacket, a bookshelf, that kind of thing.  Jesus.”

            “Whatever you want to call it.”

            “You’re stupid.”

            Romy, on the other hand, seemed like she was about ready to retreat into her own shell for a while.  She called Hannah around noon, right as Percy was collecting the plates (he was into doing the dishes right after eating, which Hannah felt was sort of anal-retentive). 

            “Guess what.”  She didn’t wait for Hannah to guess.  “I quit my job.”

            “What?”

            “I know, I know what you’re going to say.  But I know what I’m doing.  I don’t mean I, like, stormed out.  I put in my two weeks.  But I need to do this.  I need a break from the whole nine-to-five schedule.  Honestly, it’s killing me.”

            “So what are you going to do about money?”

            “I have a little saved up, and Andrew can help me out if I get into trouble.  I don’t really care, to be honest, I just can’t take it anymore.  I think I’m through with office jobs.  I’d rather work in food service.”

            “So does that mean your job is gonna be open?”

            “Yeah, why, do you want it?”

            “Actually, yes!”

            “Okay.  Give me your résumé and I’ll make sure you get it.”

            “Sweet!  My god, thank you!”  Hannah hopped up and down.

            “No problem, but I have to go.  Hey, I got a tattoo!”

            “What?”

            “I’ll tell you about it when I get back!”  The phone clicked off and Hannah hung up, scratching her head.           

            “I think Romy got a tattoo.”

            “Wicked.”  Percy put a plate in the wooden drying rack.

            “And she’s quitting her job and giving it to me!”

            “Really?  I thought you didn’t want to work at an office.”

            “Well, this isn’t my dream job, it’s a making-money job.”

            “I see.  Well, awesome!”

            “Yeah!  Wow, me in an office.  I’ve never worked in an office before.  I’m very excited about the office supplies.  I can just make little pictures all day long with post-its and stuff.”

            “Yeah, and surf the internet, and use instant messaging, and bullshit with your coworkers.”

            “Oh my god!  It’s too much!  I just realized, office jobs rule!  I mean, I was excited enough about not having to talk to customers, and of course sitting down.  But being able to do nothing and use the computer?  I forgot about that.”

            “Plus, usually there’s some kind of free food.”

            “Wow, why didn’t someone tell me these things?  I would have joined the rat race years ago.  Especially compared to food service, this sounds like a dream.”

            “I’ll bet office jobs are a whole hell of a lot easier now that we have computers,” Percy pointed out, turning off the water and drying his hands.  “Can you imagine?”

            “Yeah, yeah.  So you don’t think I’m selling out?”

            “Nah.  Dude, everyone gets a job.  It’s not something you can really avoid unless you’re really hardcore.  We’ve had to give up a lot of our individuality to function in New York anyway.  Moving here is like joining a cult.”

            “Culture,” Hannah corrected him, and he shrugged, as if to say ‘what’s the difference?’

            “Don’t you feel awkward when you leave New York, like you have nothing in common with the people everywhere else?” he asked.

            “Well, sure.”

            “Classic cult behavior.”

            “All right, if it’s a cult, who’s the leader?”

            “The Mayor.”  He raised his eyebrows, deadpan.

            Hannah sighed, giving up.  “I suppose.”

            Percy decided to spend the afternoon researching how one goes about opening a theater.  He was still on that kick.  Hannah went to her room and lit some candles and thought about the job she would soon have, god willing.  She realized, or admitted to herself, that she hadn’t done anything creative since her attempt at songwriting back when she was going out with Charlie.  There was no excuse; it’s not like she had any responsibilities.  If she couldn’t find time to do art now, what would happen when she had a house and kids and a real career (assuming she ended up going in that direction)?  When it had been a while since she’d done any art, like right now, she felt that maybe she wasn’t an artist at all, and that she’d have to stop kidding herself that she was ever going to be famous.  Maybe that’s what she needed to do to grow up and let go of her childhood and narcissism.  But she didn’t want to give up hope, not yet, or maybe ever.  She was reminded of a drawing Percy had given her once of a star in the sky saying “I’m special!” while a surly-looking star, smoking a cigar, says “Oh yeah?  Says who?”  He had entitled the drawing “New York City.”