Mott’s Ruminations is delighted to welcome back the lovely and talented Tara Chevrestt. Tara is a writer you should be watching and reading.
Now, Tara has something to tell you. Open your eyes…and listen.
Relaunch Party!!! Hear Through My Ears
Hear Through My Ears is a motivational story of a young woman, Tara, who faces the challenges of growing up “hearing impaired” in a hearing world. Follow her stories as she recounts everything from childhood bullies to work related restrictions and funny misunderstandings from mispronounced words to fear of Federal Air Marshals. In this tale, straight from the heart, hear through her ears and find out what it’s like to face adversity and rise above it.
One year into my employment, the store manager announced she was getting married. This was a very likable woman, a kind and caring boss. Naturally, every single employee wanted to attend her wedding. The wedding was on a Saturday and during store hours. Someone was going to have to work that night and, most likely, work alone. I bravely volunteered. I had just graduated high school and had an insane fantasy that maybe if I proved myself, I could get promoted to assistant manager or at least gain more work hours. It was agreed among all my coworkers that for that one night, I would woman the store alone.
So it was a Saturday night and I was wearing my best two-piece, a light blue skirt with a matching jacket and two-inch high heels that made an awful racket on the hard floors. You could probably hear me coming a mile away. Click, slap, click, slap went my shoes. “Cash, check, or Visa,” went my perky self as I rang up one client after another.
Approximately one hour before closing, my then boyfriend showed up to help me get out of there. We had a date when I got off work. The store was full of people, and bras and panties were all over the place. Everywhere but their designated locations, that was.
I looked at my frowning boyfriend as I rang up yet another client and told him to help me. “Go put those bras back in their bins.”
He didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t want me stuck in the store until midnight either, so he did as I said. He was picking up bras and panties left and right, straightening up hangers in disarray, and I was running around talking to customers, attempting to find sizes they requested in this or that camisole while also eyeing the clock.
As my boyfriend was attempting to fix up a pile of garters on a table next to the checkout counter, a very attractive woman plopped down a black teddy in front of me. I offered her my fake ear-to-ear smile especially reserved for customers that wait until the last five minutes of store hours to make their purchases, and proceeded to wrap her black teddy in the hot pink tissue paper, slapping a sticker onto the whole thing, and throwing it in a bag as I asked her, “Cash, check, or Visa?”
The woman arched a brow at me, but dutifully handed over her credit card. My boyfriend was staring at me over a hundred red and blue garters, his eyebrows forming one line across his forehead. I offered my fake smile to both of them this time and did the cashier routine before handing the woman her receipt and bag. Finally, the store was clear of clients and I could clean up, count the money, and go on my date. With a sigh of relief, I lowered the gate as the woman left the store and locked it. I kicked off my high heels and ran to the register to begin my duties.
“What did you ask that woman?” My boyfriend’s head popped up as he picked up a hangerless slip from off of the floor.
“Huh?” I asked him. “Cash, check, or Visa? Don’t you ask that over in your store?” I was referring to his job as a sale’s assistant in a store directly across the mall hall.
He grew very embarrassed, if the look on his face was anything to go by, and he cleared his throat a few times. “It’s cash, check or vee-sa,” he said.
If it was possible for an entire body to blush with embarrassment, I did so right then. I realized that for an entire year, I had been asking customers left and right, approximately twenty- five to thirty times a day, if they wished to pay with cash, check or “vie-sas.” The funny looks had nothing to do with their dwindling bank accounts. The moment I had dreaded my entire life had finally occurred: I was talking funny.
About the Author:
Tara Chevrestt is a deaf woman, former aviation mechanic, writer, and an editor. She is most passionate about planes, motorcycles, dogs, and above all, reading. That led to her love of writing. Between her writing and her editing, which allows her to be home with her little canine kids, she believes she has the greatest job in the world. She is very happily married.
Tara also writes as Sonia Hightower. Sonia writes the racy stuff and argues that she was here first. She just wasn’t allowed to be unleashed until the last year.
While Tara and Sonia continue to fight over the laptop and debate who writes the next book, you can find buy links, blurbs, and other fun bits on their website: http://tarachevrestt.weebly.com/index.html or their Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tara-Chevrestt-Sonia-Hightower/218383211513877.