Page 1 of A Fool For Her Mates

Chapter 1: Fancy

I hate April Fool’s Day. I’ve heard enough bad jokes to last a lifetime, ever since I was a baby. My name is Fancy Katz. Read it again. That’s right. Just try to imagine how many cringy attempts of humor I’ve heard. Every first day of school. Every time I buy a coffee. Every morning when customers read my name tag.

So yeah, I don’t need a whole day dedicated to more pathetic jokes and pranks. Can you tell it’s been a long day even though it’s only 11am? Well, it has. Maybe it’s because the worst people in the world are drawn to the SuperMart’s shiny, well-lit aisles even on a good day. On April first, those terrible people feel empowered to let their inner jokesters run wild. And let me tell you, they’re not funny at all.

Today I’m on greet and clean duty, which means I’m saying hello to customers when they enter the store or cleaning up their messes. I’d almost rather do the cleaning than deal with the people I’ve had to greet.

Listen, I love seeing old Mrs. Jackson when she comes to buy cat food or the Rickman family buying new shoes for their kids. They’re wonderful, good people. But today they’re being eclipsed by the six frat bros who make fun of my name and then ask me out, “because it’s funny.” Or the angry customer who literally spat at me because we were out of his favorite brand of white bread. Is this what our world has come to?

Right now, I’m cleaning up three dozen eggs that some yahoo smashed in the linen aisle and I’m seriously starting to lose faith in humanity. Maybe we should let the cockroaches take over. Or host a good old-fashioned alien invasion. I feel a tap on my shoulder and hope it’s a sexy alien savior, but it’s just my co-worker Miranda. Both of us are a few years out of high school and we’ve kind of grown into good work friends.

“Nice mess you’ve got there,” she observes as she leans against a rack of pillows.

“Yeah, it’s a delight,” I grumble.

“Just another day at the SuperMart.”

“Yup.” I extract another sticky shell from the duvet covers.

“Are you going to come with me and Jen tonight for some beers? Looks like you’ve earned it.” She waves at the disaster in front of me.

“Maybe. I’m thinking of hiding in bed for the rest of the year.”

“Aw, come on Fancy, you deserve some fun.” She smiles sympathetically.

“We’ll see.” I dump another handful of mess into my bucket.

“You should really come. Who knows how much longer we have to live, the feds shot down a UFO today.” Miranda looks a lot more excited now. I guess my dreams of alien salvation aren’t so far-fetched. Except this is very clearly an April Fool’s joke.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” I ask, peeling off my dripping gloves.

“I don’t know. Maybe? People are saying it was a big old spacecraft, and before it went down, a few bits flew off like escape pods.” She re-enacts the dramatic impact with her hands. “Looks like we could have a real-life alien invasion on our hands. It would be awesome if it was real.”

“Well, I, for one, am ready. Bring on the green guys. They can’t be any worse than humans.” My voice is heavy with sarcasm, but that doesn’t bother Miranda.

“Right on. All hail our new leaders.” She thrusts an invisible mug in the air.

“Yeah, sure,” I deadpan.

“I’ve got to go make customers happy with the little time I have. Have fun with that. Love you, Fancy!” She pushes off the rack and waves before walking away.

“Love you too, Miranda.”

Over the next hour, no fewer than ten people ask me if I’ve heard about the alien invasion. I guess it wasn’t just Miranda. The “news” is everywhere. To save myself from discussing this obviously false story, I’ve taken to saying, “Yeah, it’s unbelievable! I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.” It’s better than asking, “Are you really that dense?” or “How gullible are you?”

The alien stuff is just a minor annoyance. Compared to the eggs and the frat guys, it’s pretty harmless. I understand why it’s getting people excited, though. It’s a lot more interesting than the status quo.

I took this job three years ago, thinking I would do it until I could afford art school. Only, I still can’t afford art school. And I barely have the energy to work on my art. I guess everybody is stuck in their own way and the prospect of an alien invasion actually sounds good. I wish I could join in their excitement instead of just feeling sad that everyone’s so desperate that they’ll latch onto such an obvious hoax.

April Fool’s Day is only one day, I tell myself. This will pass, just like everything else, and I can go back to cleaning horrible messes and fending off unwanted advances like usual. I plaster on my best smile as the automatic doors slide open. I’m ready to give my greeting when the words die on my lips.

Two huge half-naked dudes in full alien body paint walk through the doors and advance towards me like they’re on a mission. Nooo! I’ve had enough foolishness for the day! Maybe I’ll just throw my arms out and say sorry the store’s closed. No. That will get me in trouble. I’ll say hello give them, tell them to come back when they’re dressed appropriately. That’s my only option. They’re several yards away, so for now I just stand there and, you know, give them a good look.

They’re about my age, shirtless, and wearing athletic shorts that look like they’re made of neoprene. These outfits leave nothing to the imagination. I would normally be offended, but I am kind of mesmerized by the sheer spectacle of their big (everywhere) bodies glistening under all that paint and spandex. You’ve got to give these guys credit for committing to the joke. They look unbelievable.

They’ve chosen the most beautiful, shimmering shade of teal to color their skin. It reminds me of peacock feathers or a tropical beach. I wish I could take a photo to paint them later, but my phone’s in my locker. I want to take a lot of photos. I swear it’s because I’m an artist and not because I’m horny.

I drag my eyes away from their bodies and look at their faces. Not exactly handsome, but rugged and arresting. Like the ancient warriors on that show I can’t remember the name of. Their crystalline gray eyes are scanning the aisles, like they’re looking for threats or quick exits. I bet they could handle big heavy weapons. A shiver runs up my spine. As I’m considering what they would look like gripping spears, their eyes swing to me. Wow. The intensity of their gaze is as impressive as the rest of them.

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