Bitches! Every last one of them! I swear, I’m going to sock one of them in the face one of these days. I am really tired of dealing with these damn female boxers. Laurel and her group of psychopaths left a giant ass mess in the women’s locker room, knowing damn well it’s my job to clean it up. I’m not talking a little bit of trash –I’m talking an intentional mess, and I know damn well it was them.

Shampoo on the mirrors –really? Fuck them! And candy wrapper and spilt protein shakes –who drinks protein shakes in the locker room? These women, apparently! I’m going to have to mop all this shit up. My shoulders drop when I drag the mop bucket into the locker room, and I realize just how big of a mess it is. I ditch the mop bucket to clean up the wrappers and paper towels and… how, dear God, no, fucking tampons! Dirty tampons!

I’m going to pass out. “Hold on,” I hear Laurel’s voice behind me; I thought she was already gone. “Yeah, yeah,” her voice sings, “I know, I’ll be there tonight, don’t worry. I just left my purse at the gym,” she turns the corner, and I realize she’s on the phone. She sees I’m in the locker room and rolls her eyes, but then she takes a look around. “I got to call you back,” she hangs up the phone, and I let her have it.

“You’re a real classy girl, you know that? You and your fucking friends,” I grit my teeth, “I’m going to be here for hours cleaning all this shit up!”

So much for my AA meeting tonight. I’m definitely going to miss it. Laurel looks around; she seems a little disgusted. “I didn’t know they did this.”

“Sure,” I say and turn around to continue picking up trash, “I’m sure you had nothing to do with this. Sweet and innocent Laurel, right?”

“I swear, I didn’t,” she says as she heads to her locker to locate her purse. “I’m sure Britany had something to do with it, though, but I’m not sure. You shouldn’t just outright assume that I-“

I slam the bag of trash down, “I shouldn’t assume? Really? You have given me hell since day one, and you tried to get me fired once already! Fuck you!”

Laurel throws her purse down on the bench between the lockers and then does another look around. “This is pretty low, I’ll admit,” she says and looks at the clock on her phone. She comes over to me, grabs the bag of trash, and heads towards the stalls where the women had dumped the dirty tampons. She grabs a paper towel and proceeds to throw the dirty tampons away for me. Once she’s done with that, she tosses the trash bag my way and washes her hands. “I can’t make you clean that up, I guess,” she grumbles. “That was just a bitch move.”

“What’s your problem with me? I mean, really?” I question.

She tosses some paper towels in the trash after drying her hands and then puts her hands on her hips. “Really? You really need to ask that? Okay, how about your comments about female fighters, for one-”

“That was taken out of context!”

“You’re a creepy guy who flirts with drunk women at a bar.”

“You invited me back to your apartment!”

“Then when I ask you to not go blabbing your mouth about it,” she grist her teeth, “you tell every last one of my friends!”

That one’s on me, I suppose, but I’m not about willing to admit defeat. “I can’t stand you!” I hiss.

She rolls her eyes, “Fine, next time Britany decides to leave her nasty tampons lying around, you can clean it up!”

“Fuck you and fuck Britany!” I shout. “God! I swear! I took this job to try to get my life back on track, and you bitches are making it damn near impossible! This shit is unreal!”

Laurel goes and grabs her purse, “I’m sorry the little rich boy got his feelings hurt when he threw his life out the window. There is no one to blame but yourself, Jonathan. You did this to yourself. You can be mad at me all you want, but that’s not going to change a damn thing.” She heads out the door, grumbling about how she’s going to be late for something.

I shake my head and get back to work. I guess I could have thanked her for cleaning up the tampons instead of going off on her. I spend the next two hours cleaning up the mess left behind. I missed my AA meeting, and I feel kind of bad about that. I hope Bobby doesn’t think I didn’t show because of him; he seemed like a nice guy. I drag myself back home to Tyler’s apartment and pass out on the couch, wishing I had my own bed to sleep in.