Biker's Virgin

Marta’s eyebrows went up a little, and she stood up so that I could see her whole face. She was a genial woman with beautiful dark skin and thick black hair always tied into a topknot that was made from an intricate collection of braids.

“You’re good?” she asked.

“Um, yeah.”

“Have you tried my chicken sandwiches?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Obviously, because if you had, you wouldn’t be saying no to them now,” Marta said. She walked around to my cubicle and leaned against my desk. “Take one,” she said firmly, offering me an open lunch box filled with the largest sandwiches I’d ever seen.

“Wow,” I said. “Those look impressive.”

“They taste even better,” she insisted. “Now take one—you’re too damn skinny.”

Smiling, I took a sandwich and placed it on a tissue so that I didn’t make a mess. “Thanks.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You’ve been moping around all day.”

I sighed. “You noticed.”

“I have two teenage daughters at home,” she said. “I’m an expert at noticing things.”

I smiled. “I guess I’m just feeling a little sorry for myself. I’m grateful to have this job, but it doesn’t pay very much, which means I won’t be able to save as much as I’d hoped. Which also means that my future plans are…far away, to say the least.”

“What were your plans, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I wanted to study,” I replied.

“What?”

“It was journalism for a while,” I said. “But then I decided on business before…”

“Before?”

“Dropping out of college,” I said quickly so that it would be less painful.

“Ah.”

“It wasn’t a smart move,” I sighed. “I know that. College dropouts never get very far in life.”

“Don’t say that,” she said. “I never dropped out of college…mostly because I never went to college in the first place.”

“You didn’t want to go to college?” I asked.

“I couldn’t afford it,” she replied. “And, I wasn’t smart enough to get in on a scholarship. Regardless, I had two younger siblings to support, and I needed to earn money as soon as I was able to.”

I felt instantly ashamed of myself for being so self-pitying. There were tons of people who had it way worse than I did, and Marta was one of them. And yet, she could still show up to work with a smile on her face and the best damn chicken sandwiches I had ever tasted.

“I'm an idiot,” I said.

“No, you’re not; you’re worried about your future, and that’s normal. In fact, it’s a good thing—it means you care about the choices you make and the road you take. But you also need to remind yourself that things aren’t all bad. You did find this job after barely a month of looking, right?”

“That’s true.” I nodded.

“And, if you’re made permanent once your internship stint is over, then there’s room for growth. The pay will get better, and you can even take a few company recommended courses.”

“What?” I asked, wrinkling my brow.