How Not to be a Bride. Portia MacIntosh
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Inside the office is a long, banana-shaped desk with five people sitting at five computers, all wearing headsets. Some are engrossed in the games they are spectating, others are chatting and messing around.
‘That guy down the end, that’s Rich. He’s a music student – don’t worry, you don’t have to pay as much attention to the games as he is. Oi, Rich.’
A skinny, dark-haired guy with thick, black-rimmed glasses looks up to wave at me before instantly getting back to his game.
‘Hi,’ I say, but he’s way too busy to give me too much attention.
‘These two in the middle, practically smashing at the desk, are Bully and Hayley. Guys, this is… did you tell me your name?’ she asks me.
‘Sorry, it’s Mia,’ I say, bemused by it all. I really didn’t expect to just waltz in here and be given a job.
To say that Bully and Hayley were smashing would be classed as an exaggeration. Hayley has her chair to one side, with her legs draped over Bully’s. He keeps running his hand up her leg, from her ankle all the way to her inner thigh, but that’s as close to smashing as it gets.
‘This beautiful lady here is Lea, she’s a student too – we’re all students. Well, except for you, Mia.’
‘What did you study?’ Lea asks me, effortlessly multitasking chatting to me, texting and running a game.
‘English literature,’ I tell her.
‘I nearly picked that,’ she tells me. ‘I went for film in the end. I just prefer movies to books, y’know?’
‘Yeah, me too,’ I reply.
‘Why’d you choose lit then?’ she laughs.
I just laugh it off, rather than explain that I mean I prefer writing movies to writing books.
Lea has her long brown hair wound up in a bun on top of her head. She’s definitely dressed casually; in fact, I think it would be fair to say that she’s wearing her pyjama pants to work today.
‘And last but not least, this is Sam. He’s a first-year, studying PE, which – is that even a real subject? I don’t think so.’
Sam gets up from his seat to shake my hand. He’s tall and skinny with messy blond hair. He’s wearing shorts, even though it’s November, but he’s had the good sense to pair them with a jumper, just in case he gets cold.
‘Hello, beautiful,’ he says as he shakes my hand.
‘Hi,’ I reply, stifling a laugh. I’d be old enough to be his mum, if I’d been more interested in boys than getting good GCSEs when I was fifteen.
‘Are you the new girl?’ he asks. ‘It’s about time we got some talent. No offence, ladies.’
‘None taken, you little creep,’ Jezebel laughs. She grabs me by the hand again, leading me out of the room. ‘You’re so far out of his league, it’s hilarious.’
She plonks herself down on one of the sofas in the waiting room, pulling me down with her.
‘So, we’ve got five rooms here: Zombie Apocalypse, Houdini, Illuminati, The Hole and Candy Land. There’s something for everyone really. So we greet customers, shove them in a room, lock the door and then we watch them on the computers and send them hints if they need them. Have you played before?’
‘I haven’t,’ I admit, suddenly very curious about how it all works.
‘So, the rooms are full of locks – padlocks, key locks, number locks – on doors, cupboards, drawers and boxes. There are all kinds of different puzzles and riddles. People just figure shit out and it unlocks a thing, and then that gives them more clues for another thing, and next thing you know they’re out here and we just take their picture and send them on their way.’
‘Does it take a long time to learn the games?’ I ask.
‘Nah,’ she replies casually with a bat of her hand. ‘It’s an easy gig. The owners never bother with the place. Your girl Jezebel is running the show now. You interested?’
‘Erm…’
Now that I’m here, I’m not sure what to do. The place seems very relaxed – a little too relaxed, though. It’s being run by a bunch of students, only a couple of years off being actual children. They do all seem really happy here, though, so maybe I could be too. Maybe working here would be fun, a great daytime distraction and a bit of extra money for this wedding I haven’t started planning yet.
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