Irvine Welsh - If You Liked School, You'll Love Work

Ignoring Stacie’s widening eyes, Kendra has a thought, sparking in her mind like the wheel of an El train over a rail point. Is Stephanie a free agent? Does she have an agenda ? — Are you still seeing Todd? she suddenly inquires.

Stephanie’s thin brows slant like a roof. — I guess, but he’s so fucking clueless and insensitive to my needs, she contends. — Jeez, it’s a hundred degrees outside and we don’t have central air con, she purses, then quickly qualifies this, —… as I choose to rent a cheaper apartment because I value my work above money…

Kendra attempts an expression of empathy at this point, but her nod comes over as pitying and she can’t stop derision and triumph molding her finely cut face, shearing it of its characteristic wariness.

—… which is a concept that clearly does not chime with his limited intellect, Stephanie spits in retaliation to Kendra’s contemptuous expression. — So I’m stuck with those crappy fans.

— Worse than useless, Kendra hisses.

— Yes… Stephanie says, now more cagily, trying to calculate whether the martyr bonus points beat the cheapskate debits. She regards Stacie who is all eyes, teeth, hair — a vacancy waiting to be filled — and knows that she’s made a gross miscalculation. — But the point is, she says grandiosely, — that the apartment is sooo gross. So I’m lying on the bed pooped, in front of the fan, after a particularly taxing day. I’d spent all morning talking to Sybil, that horrible, manipulative parakeet I told you about, and Benji, the aggressive tom who litters everywhere but the designated tray. So Todd comes through with a big smile on his face. He only wanted to do it!

— In this heat ? In your apartment? Sooo gross, Kendra scoffs, enjoying Stacie’s affirmative nod.

In shared acknowledgment of her air con own goal, Stephanie winces, the ice water she sips tasting like vinegar, while Kendra grins. That motherfucker will run , they think the same solitary thought, but in polar opposite emotional channels. Moving on sharply, Stephanie states, — I gave him a piece of my mind and I told him that I didn’t want him in bed with me till it cooled. Of course, that simple statement of my personal need was more than enough to evoke the child in him, her nylonlike hair swishing and settling back as she moves her head, — That stupid pout. So moronic.

— But don’t you think that all guys have that little boy in them? Kendra inquires, suddenly keen to make a common cause.

— Of course, Stephanie agrees, acknowledging Kendra’s gesture. — That is nat the issue. The issue is ‘How close to the surface is it?’ In him I think it might just be a little too close for comfort. I told him, couch or cab home, buddy: you decide.

Stacie’s big browny-green eyes under those infeasible lashes turn first on one friend, then another, her head moving like a spectator at a tennis match.

— I admire you, Kendra purrs. — It would be great to have that sort of control over certain other parties .

— He’s so much more alpha than Todd, though, Stephanie gushes suddenly.

Stacie picks up the menu card. Thinks about sashimi. Made for this weather. — Who are we talking about? she asks.

Kendra shakes her head at Stephanie, ignoring Stacie. — That’s just the image he projects. To me it’s a case of ‘methinks the lady doth protest too much’. He’s probably a fag.

— Kennie! Stap it! Stephanie squeals in jovial reprimand. — Just because he works out?

— Who are we talking about? Stacie asks again.

Ignoring her once more, Kendra says, — No, of course not. He just dresses a little faggy.

— He’s got style, is all, Stephanie declares, then turns to Stacie, — and we are talking about Trent.

Stacie nods. — Right. Gotcha.

Continuing, Stephanie expands: — And a membership of the yacht club. And a convertible. And a nice house on Roscoe.

— He’s a sweet guy, Stacie opines.

— And rich. He’s a partner in an architect’s practice, Kendra says, narrowing eyes trained on Stephanie.

— A practice? Since when did architects have practices? Stacie asks, taking a drink of water which stings her teeth.

— They’ve always called them practices, Kendra’s head shudders in irritation, — like law, or medicine.

— Oh, I’m sure that’s a new thing, Stacie argues.

Kendra abruptly rises and heads for the restroom. — I think you’ll find that it’s always been the case, she hisses through her teeth as she departs.

When she is out of sight, Stephanie makes her hands into claws and performs an air-raking gesture. — Miaow! Looks like somebody’s kitty litter needs changing!

Adopting her party-piece tones of a Southern black girl, Stacie raps out, — Stick a lumpa Carolina coal up dat bitch’s white ass an she gonna shit diamond! And they high-five in triumph.

The chef coasts over to them with a tray full of small dishes. He has a habit of selecting the food for his favorite customers. To Kendra and Stacie, this constitutes special treatment. Stephanie believes it is a con and that he’s just working yesterday’s stuff onto them. — Very special food, for very special customers, he smiles. — Korean, the chef explains with a mirthful twist to his mouth. — Distinguishing feature of Korean food is spices. Basic seasonings; red pepper, green onion, soy sauce, bean paste, garlic, ginger, sesame, mustard, vinegar, wine.

Stacie’s nodding-dog routine induces a tightness in Stephanie’s chest, which is mirrored in her thin red lips.

Pointing at some small bowls of soup, Chef explains, — Maeuntang is spicy, hot seafood soup that include white fish, vegetable, bean curd, red-pepper powder. Twoenjang-guk is a fermented soybean paste soup with baby clams in its broth.

— Yummy, Stacie exclaims.

— Vegetable dish is also popular in Korea. Korean call dishes made with only vegetable namool . There two kind, one cold and raw, other warm and steamed.

— Namool , Stacie repeats.

The chef is glowing as his chest expands with pride. — Korean table settings are the 3, 5, 7, 9 or 12 chop , depending on the number of side dishes served. The average family takes three or four side dishes. When family hold celebrations or party, a dozen or more dishes served. Chopstick and spoons used for eating. Different from Japanese and Chinese, Korean use more thin chopstick made with metal, not wood.

— Mmm-hmm! Stacie smacks her lips.

Stephanie’s eyebrows arch, her open mouth quivering slightly before settling to form an appraising but urgent smile. Can we shut the fuck up and just eat this stuff that you’ve brought, that we didn’t order , she thinks, suddenly time-anxious. This afternoon will herald a potentially demanding consultation with Millie, the self-harming marmoset.

Kendra waltzes back from the restroom, equilibrium restored by another Xanax. It’s not kicking in yet, and it’s no placebo, but she savors the glow of anticipation, of knowing it will before long. Her friends note that she’s changed her eyeliner from yellow to a rose color. — Looks interesting, Stephanie says approvingly, not herself knowing whether she means Kendra’s makeup or the food.

— This is Korean stuff, Kennie, Stacie sings excitedly at her.

— Korean food have various side dish, Chef continues to Stephanie’s obvious chagrin. — Favorite side dish are bean-paste soup, broiled beef, fish, cabbage kimchi , and steamed vegetables. He accusingly fingers the various dishes like they were suspects in an ID parade. Then he taps the menu. — Full-course Korean meal called Hanjoungshik . Compose of grilled fish, steamed short ribs, and other meat and vegetable dishes with streamed rice, soup, and kimchi .