Jenny continues her series of short stories written for her former employer’s Writing Club. This story imagines a library used by a new class of urbanites: Hummers, or Houseless Slummers. The prompt for this story was “include a song lyric.”

The Joke

“You have reached your destination. Buccee’s 4231 E, TX-332, Freeport, TX 77541.”

The speakers in Gigi’s pod were set the their highest level, so this notification startled her, but she stopped herself from bolting upright, as this would cause her to bang her head into the pod’s low ceiling.

Little more than a rolling coffin, Gigi’s pod had taken her years to acquire.  She was proud of it, but took great pains to conceal it, as well. She reached into the door cubby and extracted a pair of flip flops and her mirror shades. It was two o’clock in the morning, and the mirrors would communicate to anyone she might encounter that her brain was not officially receiving visitors, and she would personally initiate any exceptions, were it possible for such to be made.

There was only one other customer in the restroom, though, and she was also mirrored. Gigi finished her business quickly, refilled her water bottles, and went back to her pod. She selected numbers three and four from the navigation favorites menu and went back to sleep.

 “24 Hour Fitness, 1800 Lake Woodlands Dr, The Woodlands, TX 77380,” the car boomed again. “Via Dry Clean Super Center  2626 Research Forest Dr # A, The Woodlands, TX 77380.”

She set the pod to circle the gym and went inside. The ladies in her yoga class were all commuters. They loved her because she would feature them in her “Morning Motivation” post. After they showered, Gigi shucked the cleaners’ bag from her client meeting dress, and put up her hair, dawdling over her makeup long enough that all of her friends would be gone when she called her pod.

Gigi’s pod was a miracle to her, but she tried to avoid being seen with it. She selected favorite number five.

“Baba Yega, 2607 Grant St., Houston, TX 77006, currently closed. Gigi selected “go anyway” from the menu and reclined carefully. Her updo had to hold until noon. At Baba Yega, she once again set the pod to circle and approached Katz’s from the back. 

This was the preferred breakfast spot of target market number one: the Hummers, or Houseless Slummers. Their namesake vehicles circled the block in a dizzying array, many with windows uncovered to showcase a custom or minimalist interior. She searched for a familiar face, inside.

“Gigi!” a platinum blond named Emerson or Cooper or something was waving at her. Gigi ran to embrace her.

She ordered coffee from the waitress and flattered Cooper’s friends until her devices started beeping their reminders. She dropped a seemingly careless whole-number amount-- enough for the coffee and a fifty percent tip, into Cooper’s account, then dashed out the door.

“Wow, Gigi, is that you?” she heard a gravelly voice from behind her.

She turned and found herself faced with someone truly homeless. Someone that knew her, because they had known her mom, who had been one of them. She had been one of them.

“I’m sorry?” she pretended to smother a chuckle, then adopted a concerned air.

“Are you okay sir? Who’s Gigi? Is that your daughter?”

The man was silent for a moment, so she brightly chirped “God bless you” over her shoulder as she hurried away. When the pod arrived, she selected favorite number one.

“Houston Public Library, 500 McKinney St, Houston, TX 77002.”

She breathes a sigh of relief as she enters the lobby, heading straight for her locker, where she transfers this morning’s yoga clothes into a laundry bag and removes tonight’s set from a cleaners’ bag. She grabs her laptop and goes to the cafe.

Inside the cafe, it is safe to greet the can collectors. She doesn’t have to put on a show in here, where her very presence belies all her pretensions. Gigi’s meal money goes to her startup. She gets more coffee and opens her laptop, reviewing her pitch deck. She googles the investor she’s meeting with today.

“Work hard, play hard,” his bio reads. Gross, Gigi thinks. Probably a perv.

Her brother, Elliot, is the library’s program director. He has reserved her favorite office for her, and hands over the pager, along with tacos.

“Yum!” Gigi enthused. “Tell Bianca I said thanks,”

“Of course. Are you reading for your pitch?”

“Of course,” she repeated back at him, grinning. “I could pitch in my sleep, at this point.”

“Like I believe you sleep,” he laughed, then got up to leave. “I’ll find you after your meeting, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you, sis. See you later.”

When she finishes the tacos, she puts the pager in her purse and takes her laptop back to her lobby locker, changes shoes,  then heads up to the makerspace and her other locker. She works for two hours on a cosplay commission, then her pager goes off and she sets up her office.

As soon as the investor arrives, she knows she was right about him. She goes through her pitch anyway.

“So, you want a half-million dollars to open three location of what sounds like a health club minus the gym, plus a salon.”

“Yes.”

“I can give you half up front, with the rest paid out monthly over five years. In exchange for some considerations.

“Such as?”

“Not much. Fun stuff-- like vacations and dinners out.”

“And happy endings?”

“Isn’t that what Hummers are for?” He laughed uproariously at his own joke.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” she said, flatly. “Thanks for coming in.

He watched her, smirking as she hurriedly packed her stuff, then ran back to the makerspace. She was working on her commission again when Elliot appeared alongside her. He nudged her and she shook her head, so he plucked off her headphones. Before he could say anything, she turned and belted out her favorite Kate Bush lyric

“It doesn't hurt me.

Do you want to feel how it feels?

Do you want to know that it doesn't hurt me?

Do you want to hear about the deal that I'm making?”

Then she put her head down and cried.