In Search of the Wholesome

I am in Montana, I am 22. I have come here to find the wholesome.

My cousin’s wife’s sister got me the job, I was assigned work duties upon arrival. I will be a chambermaid and laundry woman, and maybe if I am lucky I can do table work if there are shifts to be filled.

I can tell upon my arrival that this is not going to be what I thought it was.

The place is gorgeous, the pictures didn’t do it justice, but the evening bonfires and camaraderie are not apparent.

The crew that is on staff has been together for many summers and they are a clique, and young, and everyone is gearing to hook up and party up the trail after work, or whenever evenings away from the ranch can be secured.

The manager is a snob, she is not impressed with my wardrobe which actually I had been given money by my stepfather to refresh before I went. He knew I would need better clothing, but it appears that my appearance will not suit their fine dining in the evenings.

It is toilets and towels and mops for me.

I don’t mind in a sense because all the guests are full of themselves and generally from NYC or California and show up all duded up and looking ridiculous.

Toilets and towels and mops, assure privacy and being left alone, but I had come here in the hopes of finding or to be found. But only about a week in I realized I will not often be in my own skin here.