Maude was born later than normal babies do

Maude was born later than normal babies do. Her mom was 12 months pregnant when they decided to perform c-section. God knows why the baby had stayed there for so long.

Maude went to school later than normal children do. Her dad had to tie her, load in his car and unload her in the classroom at her desk.

Maude graduated high school much later than normal teenagers do. They intentionally graded her schoolwork much higher than she deserved. She spent 10 years at the same desk where her dad unloaded me once, refusing to change classrooms. At some point they gave up and rearranged the teaching process so that the teachers would change classrooms.

Once she was done with the school, she got a job at the closest to home supermarket, first, as as a part-time cashier, then a full-time cashier and, soon enough, senior cashier. She never had to move, a flow of people and money always around me. The Big Lebowski was her favorite film.

That year she turned 35, and her mom began nagging her about doing something other than the cashier work with doubled effort. Maude heard the second part of her request only and began putting doubled effort into her cashier work. Soon enough, she was promoted to the chief cashier, the pinnacle of the local hierarchy. She was devastated. It meant she would be confined to an office of four walls, with no life action around her whatsoever. We can no longer keep you as a cashier, they said. Your years in the industry and expertise make you overqualified, and according to the company’s codex of behavior created to ensure everyone’s growth and advancement, you have to either quit the job or get on the higher position to share what you’ve collected by now with your fellow colleagues, junior, middle and senior. Otherwise, they were afraid she’d stagnate myself and the working environment. No one wanted that, they winked at her - in their world, the reasoning was justified and perfect. Besides, they dropped casually, you’d have a nice salary raise, winking again, as if they knew her well enough to assume money it was money that she had been after all these years.

The tipping point was when they literally took her chair with her on it and rolled to her new office, unloading her at my desk. We are so happy for you, they chanted, smiling and being genuinely happy for Maude. Fuck it, she thought, they will never stop pushing me up and forward, and she decided to come through with her explosive idea. You only live once after all.

That day, she was supposed to start as the chief cashier. Maude came in early, put on her senior cashier uniform and went to her cashier desk, the one she had been working at for the last 20 something years. She didn’t mind the confused faces of her colleagues. I do me, you do you, she thought. My life, my choices, and whatever new-age crap you find suitable to mention in this situation to sound intellectual and persuasive.

One of the garments of the senior cashier uniform was a vest with a badge on the left side, stating the employee’s name and position. Since it was winter, it was the warmer version of the vest, given out on December 1st each year. Having put on the puffy vest, her professional armor, Maude made myself comfortable, looking as if nothing had happened and just normally going around her day. At 10 am the supermarket’s manager showed up. And the show began.

Dear, she addressed Maude with a cold professional smile Maude knew well to recognize as “you shitty shit again mess up with my day, why can’t you just grow up as everyone else”. Dear, she went on, I am happy to remind you that today is the big day - you start as the chief cashier; miss Simon retired a few months back, and we need your precious knowledge up there, in the back office, urgently; could you just stand up and follow me, I will show you to your office; a new armchair arrived last night, ordered just for you.

No, Maude said. Sorry, dear? No, you heard me. Okay, enough with this kinder-garden. You go with me, now. She approached Maude in that quick pace, which is fueled by anger. Maude glued myself to the chair. No, I cannot and will not get up. Yes, you can, just get your ass off the chair and go. No. If I get up, all this store will explode and go to shit. I didn’t know you were a joker, the manager tried to turn the situation into fun. I am serious. The manager squatted slowly and tilted her head to see what was under Maude’s chair. Nothing was. It’s in the vest, Maude said. If I take it off, all this goes to shit. Maude opened it to demonstrate the insides.

Dear, what’s the matter, she began look truly disturbed by the situation, her yearly bonus being reduced twice, as she saw the clientèle live the store in a rush. She began losing her temper.

Your tantrum will cost me career. A friend to friend, you are so used to the world revolving around you, you don’t notice anything else.

I don’t want it, Maude exploded. I don’t want it. I don’t want growing up, down, west or east or south-east. I want what I already have. That is enough for me. I puke every morning after we have our daily morning motivational meetings - all this brainwashing about invention, innovation and progress. I didn’t sign up for this. All my life everyone thinks they know the direction I need to go, they know where to turn, what to avoid, from day one. Just let the girl be for a second. Just trust she will find her way. She, too, has a right for destruction.

I think it’s more words than I have ever heard her say, the manager thought, we can capitalize on her anarchistic and rebellious energy.