Lockdown! 17

Chapter 17

“Excuse me, miss. Excuse me!”

Snapping out of his trance, Tim turned to his left to see a frustrated-looking, middle-aged woman holding a coat. “Yes, what do you want? Oh, sorry, I mean, can I help you with something?”

“Well, I hope so,” snapped the woman. You do work here, don’t you”?

Catching a glimpse of himself, in the mirror, behind the surly-looking customer, Tim winced. The flashy-looking individual reflecting back at him did indeed work at the high-end boutique, well they would, after passing the three-month probation period.

With mirrors on nearly every wall, it was almost impossible for Tim to avoid seeing the results of Veronica's handiwork. Hundreds of times each day, he would lose his chain of thought as he accidentally caught a glimpse of himself decked out in his feminine finery. And with each sighting, as he sauntered across the room on his torturous designer heels or made a feminine gesture, the inner turmoil in his mind grew.

The image reflected back was just so jarring. On one hand, the slutty, over-the-top Asian woman looked quite natural, not at all out of place in his current environment. But on the other, the image was a complete contradiction to what his male mind expected to see.

His former floppy dark hair had been replaced with shiny auburn curls that bounced annoyingly around his shoulders. The scratchy beard he used to grow out to try and look a little more masculine was now long gone, and without it, his face looked worryingly feminine. Partly due to his Asian genes, but definitely accentuated by the thick layer of makeup caked over his Botox-filled face.

The old pair of jeans, he would wear most days, paired with a comfortable T-shirt were all but a distant memory at this point. And If he'd paid more attention in that morning's staff meeting, he would have known that the frilly blouse and patterned-mini skirt, he now wore instead, were from this season’s fashion line.

Angela, the store manager, believed that seeing her sales staff, wearing the designs that lined the boutique walls, generated additional sales. And in return, aid her in her quest to climb the company ladder.

Still staring blankly into his own heavily made-up eyes, the presence of the irritated customer next to him was not even registering. Instead, Tim's thoughts were completely consumed by the drastic modifications to his appearance, changes that would be tough for any man to deal with, but for Tim, it was especially painful as he now looked exactly like his older sister Kim. From the flashy outfits to the plumped-up lips and overdone eye makeup. The two of them could have been twins.

After moving from Hong Kong as a teenager, both he and Kim had struggled to make friends. But whereas he'd kept himself to himself, finding solace with his head in a textbook, Kim started changing to fit in with the popular crowd. First, it was shorter skirts and a bit of makeup, but pretty soon it had escalated to the point where all she thought about was her appearance and public image.

Spending all her time either watching makeup and beauty tutorials or hanging out with her friends to practice the techniques they had learned on each other. It wasn’t long before their parents had had enough.

After leaving school, having failed all her exams, Mr and Mrs Lau gave their daughter an ultimatum. Stop seeing her friends and go to college, where she would re-sit her exams or pack her bags and leave. Perhaps it was the comment about how they wished she could be more like her younger brother that tipped her over the edge, but either way, two days later, she was gone.

Coming back to reality, Tim turned away from the mirror to see an angry-looking woman staring daggers at him with her arms crossed. “Oh, sorry, what was your question again”? He asked in a tired-sounding voice.

“I asked, if you work, here?” The impatient woman snapped.

“Yes, I work here,” Tim replied, forcing the words out as the thought of himself working in such a place still felt painfully wrong.

The common thought of what his parents would think if they knew what his life was now like, crossed Tim's mind once again. Not only had their “little superstar” lost his job at a reputable accountancy firm and gone to work as a sales clerk. But he was doing it looking like a sluttier version of his disowned sister Kim.

Sighing loudly, the woman shook her head. “Well, if you can focus for a second and actually do your job. I’d like to see this coat in a larger size,” she proclaimed rudely. “Why do I always get the Asian ones? I guess It must be hard to find competent staff in tough times like these,” she added, muttering the words under her breath.

Tim subconsciously lifted his shoulders slightly and screwed up his eyes. “I’m sorry, but that’s the largest size that coat comes in,” he announced cheerfully, giving the woman his best fake smile. “I suggest trying another store or perhaps going on a diet. After all, I guess it’s hard to stay in shape in tough times like these.”

The stunned woman stuttered for a few seconds, lost for words before turning bright red in the face.

“Is there anything else I can help you with today, miss?” Tim asked, the fake smile across his painted pink lips having turned into a real one.

“You’ll regret this, you insolent little bitch. I’ll be speaking to your manager,” the woman snarled through gritted teeth.

Catching the tossed coat between his long-nailed fingers after the woman, Tim watched the woman storm out of the store. The triumphant feeling of knocking the woman down a peg or two, quickly being replaced with the unsettling knowledge that he was probably about to lose his new job.

Tottering across the room, Tim returned the coat to its rightful position before clicking back over to his usual spot. With nothing else to do, he stared at the door, essentially becoming a human mannequin. A lifeless shell, there only to promote and sell the expensive designer garb on sale at the store.

(See image 25)

Looking back into the mirror, Tim again saw a skanky version of his sister, Kim, looking back at him, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He hadn’t helped the situation years ago. Calling her names and making her feel bad, secure in the knowledge that their parents would always take the side of their perfect son.

Their parents were now back in Hong Kong, and he hadn’t seen or heard from Kim in years. He did follow her on social media and deeply regretted not making more of an effort to reconnect with her.

Last he had heard; Kim was working as a sales clerk somewhere in the city. And perhaps, just like him, she was now stood around, perched atop a pair of cripplingly painful heels. Bored out of her mind in the post-pandemic lull, waiting for a customer to walk in and insult her.