Problem is that Becky is getting older and she’s frustrated with what she sees as a drop off in her social media presence. “More followers, more likes and more DM’s, now.”
Becky’s husband owns an investment company in Portland and they had quite a bit of money – but Becky lost her job after sleeping with her boss.
“It wasn‘t my fault! They put me on Prozac and as a side effect I had a six month affair with the boss… We were both let go.” (Turns out he was also married…how did her husband take the news?….Becky didn’t say…but I hoped to find out…) I was a little shocked she was sharing this information with me as I had met her online three days ago on a FB group, but hell yeah, not much happens in my life.
Becky had been highly paid a six figure salary for doing next to nothing in a bland brick building in Portland. She shuffled a few Excel pages around but most of her day had been spent on Social Media thus she lacked real world skills to find a new job, although she swears she’s close to finding a new gig.
“I’m going to be an online activist.” She tells me as the barista brings our order to the small cafe table by the beach — she glances down at her phone again to glance at notifications. I’m confused. The large monstrosity of a coffee with the whip cream…and are those cookies in there? Then the barista hands her a pastry order. Becky has spent the morning since I met her complaining about how because of her age, 42, she can no longer lose weight. I get my small black coffee. Damn, Becky is interesting. My life is looking more simple by the second and I’m very entertained. Becky’s phone is literally always making beeps and bings and notification noises. I left my phone at home, but it’s not even a smart phone.
Becky had driven out of the big city to see me in Dysmal Nitch because she’s on a mission. I can potentially help.
She’s been scrolling her social media on her phone now pointing out highlights. Someone famous had hit like. Someone had a birthday party. I honestly don’t follow it and am drifting off in my head, glazed over like a donut.
“I need a three legged dog.” Becky says sharply.
Come again? Did I hear that right?
“Kardie S. had one last year and she went platinum for it.” She assumes I know who is talking about and am impressed by some sort of status that the person has obtained. She shows me a photo. A very altered young lady squats frog like in a bikini two sizes too small. Her teeth are fake, her eyelashes, her breasts, her hair, the eyebrows are awkwardly combed and too large for her face and her orange skin doesn’t look too natural either — maybe because I’m female or older, I don’t find her attractive in the least, she looks like an artificial person. “She’s studying to be a neurosurgeon Ph.D now that she has her degree in economics!” Becky says with envy, “and she’s a pilot and plays piano for an orchestra and owns several cosmetic businesses.” And her day job is being an online model pitching cheap skin cream, okay makes perfect sense especially since everything else in her photo is fake.
“Yeah I’m running a dog rescue now from my house for my Socials. I need a pedigree dog. It needs to be adorable, but it MUST be a three legged dog.” She leans in close looks me dead in the eye and says in a conspiratorial manner, “I’m willing to pay extra for the surgery of course.” I choke on my coffee.
I’m a Veterinarian technician, so I mostly assist in surgery on Wednesdays and in the back generally taking care of sick and injured animals. Occasionally we assist re-homing rehabilitated strays after their stay with us. It’s the weekend, but I have the keys to the back kennel to show her a few really good dogs waiting to find the right home.
She’s talking again but I’m still trying to process and the words in my mind are like the teacher on the old Charlie Brown specials, wha whaw wha wha
I’m pretty sure that because my job title has the word Veterinarian in it that Becky believes I do surgery. I have a two year degree from the community college across the river…is she trying to talk me into cutting off a dogs leg for money? It sure sounds like it.
I’m still coughing and choking on coffee, trying not to make a scene. You know how awkward it is when you choke on food and drink, and you’re going to be fine but somehow it sounds like your absolutely wrecked and everyone turns and stares.
“You haven’t met the dogs yet” I say in a really high pitch lame way – honestly, I have no idea what to say. “We have some sweet dogs” realizing as I said this I must absolutely make sure she doesn’t take one home.
Becky is telling me how much her boat cost. “Really a waste, we’ve barely had it out and that was $65,000 and then we had to get a new tire on an RV…have you ever replaced one of those? It’s $1,000….”
I’m realizing Becky has issues.
I tell her — I don’t do surgery myself. The regular Veterinarian does but you wouldn’t want …
“I’m sure you know how, and you said the Dr. is out on the weekend, so if I like a dog we could just pop in and take care of it right? You know how to wrap it up and where the pain killers are so it shouldn’t be a problem. I said I would pay…anyway….”
“But those medications…so I look at my husband and I told him, I’m thinking of killing you right now. That’s a side effect, can you imagine? I just saw that hammer and just had the urge to kill him.”
The DOGS. Omg no. What do I do? I felt like the world was spinning around me.
“My last dog was such a disappointment. He disappointed me from the start. I would yell at him, I hate you, I hate you, look what you’ve made me do! You cost money, you’re good for nothing….and that was the last dog show we were ever in….and sure he peed on that persons baby carrier and baby but it wasn’t my fault, it’s the dogs and also: medications.”
“Have you tried CBD oil? I did, and my friend said just 3 drops. Just 3. So that’s all I did. And it immediately worked, like immediately and I was freaking out and I was seeing things — can you believe she recommended that?! What a BEOTCH am I right? So I ended up jumping out of our bay window and breaking it and that’s going to be $2,000 to get repaired. I asked my husband can you believe that? I went on FB and posted about her. She is never going to hear from me again, what a bitch.”
THE DOGS. Myself — omg….
“So I made this new friend from Craig’s List and he’s an adult that fell on hard times and he’s home at his Mom’s house but she treats him so bad. He’s 30, and just like my son…” The twinkle in her eye made me think…not son…boyfriend? Hookup?
“I told my husband, if he ever needs a place to stay he is staying with us and I’m not even discussing it. It’s not a debate. He needs someone to take care of him.”
(But your not working and so you’ll use your husbands income to take care of a strange dude from Craig’s List while he’s gone all day to the office???)
Uh’ Becky… I said. I gotta go. She wasn’t listening. I was preparing to say the following…
‘I just got a text and my boss adopted out those dogs on Friday and didn’t tell me (lie). Sorry about that. I have to go lay down. ‘
But Becky wasn’t listening she was engaging with an impeccably dressed older woman and they were having a speed round of name dropping. “You know the governor too? Oh yes that’s our favorite golf club! We were in Europe and missed the fund raiser…”
I was invisible.
I took my chance, I ducked out…they didn’t notice. I made it to the door…and then the parking lot, I just kept going. I hauled out as fast as I possibly could. I didn’t look back.
Social Media: not even once.
