Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
It’s one of the things I loved about living here in college.
In New York, you can dress up in full costume to attend a viewing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show any time of the day or night and no one will bat an eye. You can also talk to yourself, walk the park with a python wrapped around your neck, or breakdance in the middle of a crowded subway car. Not all of these things are desirable, of course, but the freedom is exhilarating.
Back in Reindeer Corners, you’re likely to earn a dirty look if you wear too much black at once or allow a single weed to grow in your front garden. My mother gets anxiety attacks every time a member of the Select Board walks past her gate on his morning constitutional.
It hits me all over again how glad I am not to be at home right now, and a sliver of concern wiggles through my chest. What if two weeks isn’t enough? What if, once the competition is over, the thought of heading back into the judgy, rural, Christmas-obsessed wilderness still feels suffocating?
Or, even worse, what if I lose a challenge and get kicked out before the two weeks are up? Kayla was a doll about covering my shifts, but once I’m out of the running, I’m expected back behind the desk at the inn.
Back in the Christmas thick of it, with the smell of cocoa and evergreen needles so strong a person could choke on it if they’re not careful…
Not going to happen, the inner voice rumbles with the confidence of a championship boxer entering the ring. You’re going to win big or die trying. No way you’re getting sent home because you couldn’t scoop poop fast enough.
“Relax,” I mutter into the lid of my cup. “No one’s getting sent home this morning.”
But there is a chance to win immunity for the second challenge, and wouldn’t that take the edge off? I’d be able to relax for three entire days, as the third challenge isn’t scheduled until Thursday.
The thought is like a cherry candy melting on my tongue, flooding my mouth with sweetness.
Ditching my coffee in a nearby trash can, I maneuver myself closer to the tent, where the prop mistress is testing the “scooping” action on several long-handled scoopers. They seem to be high-quality devices, and clearly designed to make it easier for people who have trouble bending down to retrieve their dog’s waste.
But I don’t have an issue with bending down. Back at the inn, I bend down at least a hundred times a day. A kid is always dropping their candy cane or their puzzle pieces or their entire marble collection on the floor.
That last one had both Kayla and I moving fast to clear the lobby before the marbles became a safety hazard for the other guests. It also led to a tense conversation with Jackie, the owner of the country store. Yes, I’m aware that people love buying their kids nostalgic toys from another age, but do the marbles really need to come in packages of one hundred? Especially considering most of them will lie neglected in the closet as soon as the kids get home to their screens and electronics?
But now all that scrambling after marbles might come in handy. I’m not too proud to get down and dirty in the name of taking home immunity. Besides, thinking outside the box helped me on the first challenge. Might as well keep playing to my strengths.
Once we’ve each been issued our gear, I discreetly pull a dozen poo bags from the holder dangling from the top of the scooper. A dozen should be more than enough. Scanning the astroturf, I count about twenty-five to thirty piles of the yucky stuff.
There were a few more at the beginning, but one of the clowns started eating it and had to be removed before everyone in attendance started projectile vomiting. (I love dogs, I really do, but the fact that they even occasionally devour their own feces will make me a cat woman until the day I die.)
“I know this isn’t the most enjoyable way to start the morning,” Ainsley says, once she’s welcomed us all back to set and congratulated Jenna again on her win. “But the good news is that you’re still here with us today. The better news is that one of you will win immunity for Tuesday’s challenge. Whoever scoops the most poo—by weight, not by number of bags—will be the big winner of not only the Free Pass but a special performance by the talented puppies of Chelsea Clown College.”
“Nope, no clowns. The only treat I want is that sweet immunity,” Eduardo says, nudging Millie’s hip with his. “So, watch out, sunshine. I’m coming in hot.”
She snaps her scooper playfully toward his. “Back at ya, buddy. But watch out. I worked part-time at a kennel during high school. Poo scooping is in my blood.”