Karenocracy Pt. 01

I couldn't bear the thought of wondering for the rest of the day whether Carol was going to cash the cheque or not. "Carol, please," I said, in an almost begging manner. "I just bought this place. The mortgage is going to pound me every month. I can't afford this on top of that." I nodded towards the cheque in her hand. "That's really going to set me back. I've learned my lesson, I swear. Can we just call it quits and I won't cause you anymore problems?"

"You should have thought about that before erecting that ghastly eyesore for the rest of us to suffer its smoke." She then removed her shades, and narrowed her eyes at me while looking down her upturned nose. "And it's ma'am to you, young lady." She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You know what? I'm tired of your attitude. I'll be cashing this cheque once I've finished this chapter."

Such was the strict, forcefulness of her tone, that I almost shrank in my demeanour, my spine rattled. "Sorry, ma'am," I said nervously, my throat feeling tight. "It's just...if there's anything I can do to convince you to let me off the fine, please, just tell me and I'll do it." I licked my lips. "I already apologise like you wanted, so you can see I'm willing to compromise." The advice of my friend was fresh in my mind. Be reasonable, be amicable and come to a compromise.

Carol was silent for a moment, her arms crossed while she sat the picture of confidence. Her one foot was still dangling over the knee of the other, and casually swung from side to side. It was such a bizarre scene to be taking place, with myself being an easy twenty years younger than her, while she was the one barely dressed and laying around in the sun. She squinted her eyes in my direction, almost considering me. "What are you suggesting?" she finally asked.

I gulped, before shakily adding, "Well, someone told me that you let him off a fine because he changed the tyre on your car?" I didn't have a clue how to change a tyre, but it seemed way more appealing to me than a $600 fine.

Carol cocked her head. "Are you offering to work off your debt?" She pursed her lips in contemplation and shrugged as if it was a possibility. "I may be open to some kind of community service arrangement in leu of your fine payment, I suppose."

"Community service?" I was already envisioning the humiliation of having to sweep the streets or something, as if I was on day-release from prison. That wasn't at all what I'd envisioned when I'd bought my new home, but everything seemed to be going tragically wrong. Still, having to do that for an hour was better than having to dip into my emergency fund. "What kind of community service?" I figured that if it was something reasonable, then it might be worth it. Something along the lines of changing a tyre, but something I was actually capable of doing. Especially with the way she'd framed it, maybe I could offer some of my skills to the local children, perhaps arrange some fun activity in the communal park area.

Carol had slotted one arm of her sunglasses between her teeth while she thought, before her eyes wandered around her garden. "Well, I suppose my grass could do with cutting." She then nodded towards the trees along the rear fence line. "There's a lot of leaves that need raking, and some have blown into the pond water."

"You want me to clean your yard?" I asked in surprise. "I thought you meant...do something for the community, not just for you."

Immediately, Carol's eyes shot to me in a scowl. "Are you suggesting I'm being selfish? Because I was actually considering a way out for you that didn't involve a financial penalty. That's the thank you I get for my generosity? You twist my kindness as if I'm trying to personally profit from your labour?"

"No, no..." I said anxiously. I was on the verge of finding a solution to my predicament and I didn't want to blow it at the final hurdle. "I wasn't suggesting that. I was just surprised. I'd be happy to clean your yard in exchange for the fine being written off." I had a quick look around her garden and it really wasn't that bad. She obviously did a pretty good job herself looking after it.

"Well, don't let me stop you then," she said, with another casual swing of her foot. I could see she was enjoying tormenting me, despite her expression remaining neutral. "It's not going to clean itself, is it? If you do a good job, then I'll waive your fine."

"What? Now?" I asked in surprise. I was hardly dressed for gardening duty; decked out in a blouse, shorts and my favourite boots.

"It's entirely your choice," she said. "Don't act like I'm forcing you to do anything. You can just pay off the fine and we're good. If you choose to work instead of paying it, well, that's up to you." She signalled with her head towards the rear shed. "There's tools and gloves and stuff back there. I'm sure if you put some real effort in you can have it finished within an hour."

The thought of this all being brought to conclusion within an hour was most welcoming. "Yes, ma'am," I said, and I even offered a moronic salute, as if trying to lighten the mood.

Carol just had this way of talking in a constant patronising manner and barking out unreasonable demands and orders as if she was a drill sergeant. On the face of it, I knew that cleaning her yard in exchange for the cancellation of a fine, one I didn't even deserve, was ridiculous. But, this was the situation I found myself in, and I lamented the fact I hadn't kept schtum about the party I was having. That first day when she'd shown up, I should have just brushed her away, but I had to go ahead and front up to her, didn't I? Perhaps this was all a punishment for my petulance. I mean, I was the one that had called her a Karen straight to her face, hadn't I? I'd figured I could show her that I didn't care about her self-imposed authority, but evidently, I was completely out of my depth and now I was about to clean her frickin' yard while she lay around enjoying the sun.

Carol shook her head dismissively at me, clearly finding no amusement in my behaviour. "Just get on with it and stop bothering me."

I gulped at the audacity of her, and the way she casually gave me instructions as if I was the hired help. It was such a strange feeling, to be attempting to please a woman like her. She was a Karen, there was no denying it, and Karens were fucking annoying. Everyone knew that. They were a constant source of amusement as they ranted and raved about some imaginary injustice they'd been forced to undergo. You know, like smoke from a BBQ from across the other side of a gated community. But, Carol wasn't being mocked, was she? She was laying back without a care in the world, and instead, it was me that was going to be the subject of mockery. I mean, people were going to see me working in her garden, weren't they? Her yard was right next to the security gate, so whenever someone drove in, the first thing they'd see was Carol reading with her feet up, while I was cutting and raking the grass. Those who didn't know me would probably figure I was her employee or something.

I gulped at the thought of that, considering I was basically doing this unpaid. Yes, it was to wipe off a fine, but that was an injustice in the first place. I'd basically been trapped into working for Carol's benefit, taking care of her yard while she'd fined me for having fun in my own!

I grabbed some shears and a rake from her shed, and then came back out to the garden. Carol was still sprawled out on the lounger, and busy reading her book, sat in comfort with her feet up relaxing. I looked over at her and was suddenly overcome by an intense feeling of contempt. It was so damn unfair, but she appeared to have no remorse at all for what she was about to make me do. She was just going to lay there and chill out while a girl twenty years her junior cleaned her yard for her. It wasn't as if I was doing it voluntarily either to help out an aging woman. I was pretty much being forced against my will, but evidently, that didn't mean diddly squat to her. She'd even framed it like it was my own choice, that it was my fault for not paying a fine I so clearly deserved.

I couldn't believe she didn't even have a lawnmower too, so I was forced to hunker down and begin snapping at the blades of grass with the blunt shears, all the while cursing and grunting to myself.

"Make sure you get every corner," she called out from the comfort of her lounger. "Get right in there. Right up against the bricks. I don't want to see any mess or bits of unkempt grass left over. If you're going to do this in leu of your fine, then you better do a good job."

I grit my teeth and ignored her, my lower back already hurting as I scraped the shears up against the bricks in my attempt to get every blade of grass puffing out. My blouse was already sticking to my skin from the sweat of effort, and my boots were caked in mud, but apparently, that meant nothing to Carol.

"Did you hear me?" she called out.

"Yes," I said back in a rather short manner. "I heard you."

"Is that how you're speaking to me now, is it? When I give you an opportunity to work your way out of your penalty." She blew a petulant raspberry with her lips. "I've never allowed anyone else to do this. They all accept they were in the wrong and pay their fines immediately. You should be a bit more appreciate of the chance I've given you." She shook her head and continued reading her book.

I stopped mid-cut with the shears as her ludicrous musings grated at me. I should be grateful for being allowed to clear up her yard? Her arrogance and entitlement were ridiculous, but I guess it wasn't unexpected with her self-importance. I mean, she felt like she had the right to interfere in everyone's homes and choices, and now she felt like she had the right to order me around. Still, her words just had a way of twisting things, almost like she was an expert at gaslighting and making me feel bad. I knew she was full of shit too, since my neighbour had told me all about the tyre incident. But I just wanted to get the work done, clear the fine, and get the hell out of there. Mostly, I just didn't want to hear her annoying voice anymore. "I'm sorry, ma'am," I said, hoping to put an end to her exhausting monologue. "I heard you, ma'am." The sarcasm was obvious within my own head.

"Good," she said while turning the page; her toes wiggling at the end of the lounger as she stretched them out and gripped at the material. "Now, stop bothering me and do your work. The garden isn't going to take care of itself."

I turned back to her, astonished once more that I was being made out to be the bother, but this time, I bit my tongue, instead feeling a warm flush flow through me at being spoken to in such a belittling way. It cut straight through to my pride, and it angered me immensely that I wasn't able to retort or defend myself. I felt trapped, and unable to adequately defend myself, fearing that any witty riposte would only worsen my plight. Instead, something inside me made me respond to such arrogance with deference. "Yes, ma'am," I said, and immediately I was overcome by a warm and fuzzy sensation that made me involuntarily flinch in a shudder. It felt so wrong to address someone you disliked with that level of respect, but I felt like I had no choice. I felt like I'd been backed into a corner.

Her behaviour was deathly offensive to me, and pretty much represented the arrogant selfishness and belief of every Karen I'd ever seen on the internet and all those I'd encountered first hand. At work, I'd go along with their complaints, because I was being paid. Yet, now I was suffering one where I lived and I was no longer reacting in the way I'd expect. Instead of recording her while she embarrassed herself with her immature, petulant demands, and sharing it for the world to laugh at, here I was praising her for it and following her demanding instructions. Despite it killing me inside, I was still crouched down and tending to her lawn while replying to her with respect. The more I thought about it, and how I had no choice, the more unfair it felt, and the warmer and more anxious I became. "Yes, ma'am," I said again without even thinking, as if to test the waters of my body's reaction; a feeling of shame immediately ripping through my pride. I saw in my periphery vision that Carol had glanced up from her book, her eyes squinting at my inconvenience of bothering her read instead of doing my apparent new job.

"Much better attitude," she said, "but be quiet now, and do your work in silence. I don't want you interrupting me again."

I gulped as my face reddened at being overheard, and I dropped my head at being castigated as if I was a naughty child. Instead of reacting, as I knew I should have, I remained quiet, following her instructions to a tee while using my frustrations to energise myself into working my way through the grass. In the baking sun, the heat became quite unbearable, and the longer I worked, the more I found my clothes becoming sweaty and my boots scraped and dirty.

Meanwhile, Carol was relaxing carefree, enjoying the sun as it lightly-tanned her skin. However, she too began to notice that we were experiencing a hotter day than expected, and while I was lumping a bag of shorn grass passed her, I heard her sigh and whine, "It's too hot." She covered her eyes with her hand, before arrogantly snapping her fingers at me. "Are you busy?"

I blinked while clutching the bag, before glancing down at what I was doing at that moment. My forehead had a sheen of sweat and my hair had become matted to my skin. I couldn't even process whether she was asking a serious question or just mocking me; obviously I was freakin' busy as hell, doing her grunt work while she lazed around in the sun. "Yes?" I asked, while looking back at the cut and now neatly levelled lawn. "I've been working for over an hour, you've seen, right?"

Rather than being impressed, Carol rolled her eyes impatiently, then snapped her fingers once more, before pointing to a parasol a few feet away. "Come here and move this for me so I can sit in the shade while I monitor your work. I'm starting to burn, but I can't go inside because the first instant I stop supervising you, I know you'll go all workshy."

"I won't..." I felt mildly offended at the connotation of being lazy, and my first instinct had been to defend myself. However, I'd trailed off while Carol's attention had gone fully back to her book. She'd snapped her fingers and summoned me like I was her trained lackey, before ordering me to perform another task while dishing out an insult to my work ethic. Now, she'd simply returned to her book and expected me to accept her disdain and perform her instruction without question. Inside, I was fuming at the way she was treating me, showing no gratitude at all for the work I'd already done. Yet, there was something else growing inside me, and the way she was treating me without regard was bringing butterflies to my tummy for a reason I didn't understand. I'd had people be rude to me in the past, but none had belittled me in such a way, and shown no concern for my own feelings. It was as if the more she realised I wasn't opposing her, the more of a Karen she became. She could have easily got up and moved the damn parasol umbrella herself; I was busy and exhausted enough as it was.

I looked at her, and was blown-away by the entitlement, and the ease of which she held no qualms about giving me extra work. It was just so wrong, to see a Karen get away with her behaviour. It was like she believed that I existed to do this kind of work for her, and I was finding the whole thing confusing and strange. I mean, I was already exhausted, and now she wanted me to help her rest in more comfort? It was just so...unfair, but I found that oddly provoking. Carol had to have known it was unfair too, but she was demanding it of me all the same. I was curious how she would respond if I actually just did what she wanted; would she ease in her attitude, or demand even more from me? That was a perplexing consideration and I was disturbed by the strange feeling in my tummy at the thought of Carol barking even more orders at me, while being trapped and forced to comply. It was almost like she had me restrained in legal bondage, and if I didn't do as she wanted, she'd financially punish me. It was a power of which I was most envious, and therefore, I became fearful and almost revering of her might. While not really understanding exactly why, I found myself dropping the bag, nodding my head obediently and whispering, "Yes, ma'am."

I scurried over and moved the parasol in place, before setting it up so that Carol's reclining body was completely shaded from the sun. She made no comment and offered me no thanks, not even bothering to look in my direction; her focus entirely on her book. Still, I hovered their awkwardly, seeming paralysed as I waited for some fragment of recognition, some minor praise tossed in my direction. I was doing everything she wanted, wasn't I? After all of her Karen demands and the way she framed everything as an inconvenience to her; I was agreeing and sucking up to her, yet, I didn't even get any acknowledgement in return. Instead, I was left stewing there, my body still oddly tingling in turmoil as I remained forcibly attentive to Carol's selfish needs. "Is there anything else I can do for you, ma'am?" I prodded tentatively, almost eager to make her happy. Why? I didn't know, but there was something almost fascinating about witnessing an unrelenting Karen in her element. Almost like a Karen off the leash that was running wild, and rather than trying to restrain her, I was curiously encouraging her to break free.

Despite the safety of being away from Carol, by getting through this work and then keeping away from her, I found myself hanging around and almost wanting more unjust mistreatment from her; I couldn't explain the catalyst, but it was like I somewhat craved it, because that odd feeling of being trapped in her power was vitalising. It was weird whenever she castigated me; it always brought a reaction, like I used to feel in school whenever I'd been caught doing something naughty. My skin would redden, my head would drop, and I'd instantly be remorseful. Even if I hadn't done anything wrong, the teacher was the authority figure and therefore, I'd struggle to defend myself. I was having those same feelings flowing through me as Carol continued to talk down to me and tell me about all of the ways in which I was wrong and she was right. The more she did it, the more I felt like that little girl again. The more I believed I had no right to talk back to her.

Carol gave me exactly what I strangely desired, dismissively waving a hand at me and ordering me, "Shoo." She didn't even bother to look up in my direction. "Get back to work she said," before turning a page and casually adding. "I'll call you if I need anything else."

For the next hour or so, I toiled laboriously, shaping and pruning Carol's garden in all the ways I'd planned to do so for my new home. My fingers were already sore, and my palms calloused at the repeated chopping of the shears and digging of the trowel. Occasionally, I'd look upon my previously pristine manicured-fingers as they were buried in the soil, my femininity seeming to diminish with each passing minute. It was almost like I was destroying my own delicate, pretty features for Carol's benefit; my face likely streaked with similar dirt with the amount of times I'd had to wipe the sweat from my brow and cheeks.

Each time I'd look at the dirt lodged beneath my fingernails, I'd glance up and feel overcome with resentful jealousy as I spied Carol relaxed in her lounger. Her feet casually crossed with French-pedicured toes looking pristine and unblemished. It was so bizarre, that my fingers were wrinkled from repeatedly plunging into the soggy soil, whereas Carol's decades-older bare soles seemed flawless as they mindlessly flexed while enjoying her book.