Midge the Fridge

Her eyelashes were crisscrossed. The dark roots and tiny mink hairs had been knotted and glued; sitting in dirty clumps across the upper eyelid. Sparse, angular, little jagged swords ready to poke anybody who came too close. They hardly ever blinked. It was possible that to do so would entangle them further. The unceasing glare was a threat, and a promise. She frowned at her little helot. The girl was obviously incapable; soft, and possibly a liability. Her slender pointed nails were painted a lustrous red colour by Smith & Cult’s Kundalini Hustle, and tapped a few times on the desk before huffing.

Gloria sat, and stared dumbly. She had to. It was her job. The watchful gaze of her supervisor served to unnerve her, but also kept her awake. She glanced at her own shortened nails, and longed for a file to round off the little burr on her pinky. She looked up nervously, aware that this inappropriate action may raise some ire from her progenitor.

Sitting at a raised desk, seated above a large foyer partially filled with brown hued and mostly torn purple vinyl sofas, each filled with old yellowing foam.

Day in day out, Gloria smiled emptily as customers filed in. A grey patterned wall to wall carpet creating trip hazards with randomly frayed strings and holes.

It was greasy with age, and neglect, smelling dark and slightly sour. As the sun poured through the windows and filled the walls it revealed a still drying stain, and a faint black pattern on the carpet. The patterns and splashes mingled together unevenly and was difficult to look at for any length of time.

Gloria straightened her back, glancing backward. Midge had left at last and she let her shoulders relax forward.

The podium, the room, even the smells, suddenly filled her with delight. She was in control now that the boss was gone, and she chewed at the little burr.

Her birth name was Glorious, or as everybody knew her, ‘Miss Gloria’, or ‘Miss G’, currently employed in the service of BeSureSecurity, in the largest Department Store on George Street. She answered questions, gave directions to the toilets mostly, and sat at the entrance. She wasn’t supposed to let people in to use the toilets but couldn’t turn them away. They got cranky if they were told they couldn’t use the toilets so she just let them through. The burr was gone and she realised it was bleeding now so she sat on it hoping to staunch the flow.

‘Hello, I was wondering..’ Said someone. ‘

‘ Straight ahead and third on your left,’ she said, smiling and still sitting on her hand. ‘, ‘where to find the perfume counter?’ ‘Oh, I thought you wanted the toilet,’ she said radiantly. ‘ Second floor, go up the escalator. The escalator is just behind me.’ The gentleman moved quickly away glancing up and wondering if he looked like he needed a toilet.

Gloria slid her hand out scraping the bloodied finger on her skirt which made it bleed more, and she quickly sucked it clean, this time pressing her thumb over the little tear. Midge was standing beside her. ’Something wrong with your hand, Miss Gloria? Go and clean yourself up.’ She watched the hapless creature fumble off the stool and noticed the tiny bloodstain on the edge of her skirt. Never had she seen such incompetence.

An elderly man approached the desk. ‘Excuse me, I was hoping I might use your bathroom? I haven’t been able to find anything and ..’ He looked at Midge apprehensively.

‘ Our amenities are only for patrons. There’s a train station near Hyde Park where you will find what you need.’ She looked over the gentleman to the outside bustle and noticed some rain had started. The gentleman had not moved and he said, ‘ yes, well, the rain has started and I was told there was a bathroom here.’ Midge glared. ‘ If you’re not shopping here, Sir, the amenities are only for our patrons.’ The gentleman looked Midge in the eye and walked into the shop. The cheeky.. why, he wasn’t going to shop! Midge didn’t know whether to follow him and just barely restrained her self from calling out. Where was Glorious? This was all too much.

Gloria sat on the toilet, her finger now staunched successfully with toilet paper. She didn’t want to go back because Midge would hang around and watch her. It made her nervous and so she had a little cry, then dotted her eyes with some more paper. Midge was horrible. She flushed the toilet and walked out. Stopping to adjust her tights in the full length mirror she saw the bloodstains so went back to the basin. This would give a bit more time to avoid Midge, and she went to work on the stain, rubbing the cloth vigorously, but it just spread with the water and looked worse. Gloria started to cry again and this time it was hard to stop. She paused, realising time was not going to make this any better, probably even worse, so breathed in and walked out, her eyes red, the pinkish stain all too apparent on the backside of her skirt, and promptly bumped into an elderly man leaving the mens. “Oh, sorry, sorry, ‘ she said, and quickly made sure he was upright and stable.

“That’s alright, I’m alright,’ he smiled, and looked into Glorias’ tearstained face. He saw the BSS logo on her shirt and frowned. But looking at Glorias’ face made him feel sorry and he smiled again. ‘ You okay? Im alright you know, I didn’t fall over.’

Gloria was so embarrassed she fled to the foyer and sat down before Midge could see the stains.

Midge had started patrolling the foyer, strutting like a drill sergeant to intimidate anybody from asking any questions. If they came in to use the amenities she wouldn’t know it, but they were being warned by her presence. ‘Ah you’re back. Make sure no-one comes into use the bathrooms; just because it’s raining, there’s other places.’ And she marched back into the shop. The wages of a cleaner were far too much and while she, Midge, had offered to take care of all sanitation, there was no way her job would require more than a weekly inspection. She quietly retched at the thought, then lifted her cuff to her lips, glancing over the pearl button.

Glorias’ eyes soon dried, and she let everyone into the shop that wanted to use the toilets. Angry at Midge for making her cry, she offered the amenities as an afterthought to all the customers, just in case they might decide to go before they left. This made her happy, and she smiled bountifully at the doorway.

She was so happy she didn’t ask for a tea break, or a lunchbreak, and finally noticed at half-past four her tummy was starting to squeak. The time for the train ride home was nearing, and she checked her bag for her ticket. Just then, a throaty deep voice said, ‘ madam, do you sell stockings?’ ‘ If you need the toilet, the stockings are just past them on the left.’ ‘ Mm, yes I might, and do you sell double extra large stockings, in black opaque?’ Gloria said, ‘ yes well Im sure we do, just down there, ‘ and she turned to point at the lingerie counter. “ Have you been crying?’ Said the voice.

Gloria said, ‘ no, just down there.’ And pointed. The voice blinked slowly, knowingly, and said, ‘ don’t let the bastards get you down. Not now, not EVER!’

Gloria watched as the heaving figure coughed and the earrings shook. She had the most lovely green eyes, Gloria noted, as they made their way to the stocking counter. Five minutes later they reappeared, and said half-smiling, ‘maybe another time.’ Gloria watched them leave, fascinated by the encounter. Only when this customer turned left out the door to the trains did she see the stocking packets sticking out surreptitiously from the top of her tote bag. Gloria was awfully glad that Midge had been foiled.

It was half past five, and Gloria shut the wood doors, padlocking the three hasps, and placed her bag over her shoulder. Smiling triumphantly at the puzzled Midge, who was reconciling the days takings at the perfume counter, she left down the stairs, down to the basement, then back up through the aluminium roller-door on George Street. It was a hazy windless evening. The streets were packed with commuters, some on their way to the bar for a debrief, most squeezing shoulders inwardly, heads down, on their way home. Gloria hunched forward and tried not to slip on the concrete stairs.

A blanketed old man was lying just at the bottom with a little cardboard sign that said,

‘ halp nedded hav no job.’ Glorious wondered how he would go working for Midge the Fridge. Perhaps he could use the toilet tomorrow, too.