It began just after she stopped struggling with food. Her two year battle with bulimia was, as she had convinced herself, over. The only scars apparent from the battle was her now dangerously thin physique. Lana was 18 years old and had just graduated from high school the month before. She had not gone to college, she couldn’t afford it, as she was completely independent and completely broke.
She lived alone in the overcrowded, vast city of Los Angeles California. the summer was lingering on. LA was restless with its blazing one-hundred degree weather, the youth taking up the beaches and downtown area, and the streets lined bumper to bumper with cars day in and out, windows rolled down and the latest tunes from Madonna blaring all over Hollywood Boulevard. Lana strolled down the streets of downtown LA. With college out of the question she put all her effort into finding a job. She approached a familiar bakery just around the corner of Laguna Avenue and entered it.
The suffocating heat of the LA summer was drowned out by a refreshing, shivering cold air infused with the mouthwatering smell of various flavored muffins and pastries. She inhaled delightedly as the door chimed introducing her to the store and it’s few customers.
“HEY LANA! What can I get cha? The usual?” Came the excited voice of Jack, the 40 something owner of Zen Bakery.
He was positioned behind the counter, a large pearly white grin on his round and rosy face, his chubby fingers were wrapping a box for an order. Lana had been a regular at Zen Bakery during her senior year of High School. Every morning she’d come in and order what Jack referred to as the “usual”, two large and soft bran muffins with a steaming cup of black coffee.
“Not today Jack” Lana replied with a friendly smile as she walked towards the counter, “Actually I came in today to see about a job, I just graduated, I could really use the money.”
Jack looked at her thoughtfully. “I got no work here in the kitchen, but talk to Sissy in the back, she’s hiring right now.”
Sissy was a petite woman with her long, curly, dark brown bangs covering the first half of her face. Her brilliantly colored green eyes shone through her hair and lit up when she smiled, and as Lana introduced herself.
“All I need to know is if you can drive a van. I distribute the muffins, you can help with the delivery to the customers and stores” Sissy stated after hearing Lana’s proposal. Although having no prior experience with driving a van that looked enormous in comparison to her small figure, Lana did have experience with her own banged up 1979 Chevrolet and figured the basic operation of the old thing would be similar if not exact to that of the van. Lana answered with an impatient “Yes!” Having a feeling that her long job search was finally over and done with. Sissy agreed to hire her, and as a sort of confirmation to this, shook Lana’s hand firmly.
The days cooled off as summer came to a closure for the people of LA. The wind still carried the smell and warmth of summer as it weaved through the palm trees, and pushed the waves against the beach shores. Every morning at five, Lana would leave her small, old apartment building on 31st street, buckle up in the rusty blue van with the fading name of ZEN BAKERY on the sides, and drive down Laguna Avenue to arrive at the bakery in time for the five thirty pick up. After the back of the van was loaded with zen muffins, Lana would follow her route on the highway to deliver the muffins throughout the Los Angeles area.
With Jack baking the muffins, Sissy handling the distribution, and Lana delivering them, success came almost instantly. ZEN MUFFINS were the new words on the street. The healthy vegan treats happened to be the newest craze. During the course of nine months Lana spread Zen muffins all around northern California. Even though the pay was great, one thing stood out to Lana, she’d see Sissy putting hundreds of dollars in her pocket every night before closing. Although the pay was more than Lana would have made anywhere else, the thought came to her: How can I make that much dough?
“Dough Boys” bread was something no one had ever heard of before. Lana wouldn’t have even heard of it if she hadn’t made a delivery to the Co-op one Friday afternoon. After a year and a half, Lana had gotten the rights to sell and deliver other products besides the Zen Muffins (which was not as hot and new as it was years prior). When she saw “Dough Boys” bread she knew one thing immediately, this bread was absolutely nowhere. And in her past experiences, things that were nowhere had to immediately be put on shelves everywhere.
Frank was the owner of the bakery from which “Dough Boys” bread was produced. He was a man in his mid 30’s with a stern look upon his finely structured face. He held himself up right and in a very professional manner. He was taken aback when he met Lana in person. The skinny, small, girl of 20 who had demanded over the phone for exclusive rights to deliver “Dough Boys” bread. During this time, Lana had branched away from exclusively selling the Zen Muffins (which had at this point become a thing of the past) and began to sell other health food products, acquiring a considerable amount of money in the process. The “Dough Boys” bread would, as she felt, would be her biggest hit, she was so confident in this fact that she was not going to let Frank walk away from her offer.
Lana may have only been young, but she knew how to talk. Frank listened to every persuasive word that Lana spoke and automatically trusted her. Within the span of an hour, Frank had agreed to give Lana the bread to deliver. Within the course of a few months, ” Dough Boys” Bread was everywhere. Calls were made day in and out, demanding for the delivery of “Dough Boys” bread. It was a case of first impression, no one had seen this type of bread in a health food store before, and unlike most health food goods, the bread was absolutely delicious. Lana was now primarily working with Frank. The Zen Bakery had since gone out of business and wasn’t doing so well. If there was one thing that Lana could pick up on it was that people are fickle and products can be instantaneously “hot” and not “hot”, in and out; but bread on the other hand, was always consistent. People always wanted to break bread.
John Doe was homeless. He spent his days stalking the streets and alleys of downtown LA. He was always looking for food, not for him, but for his girlfriend who had just given birth the month before to a baby girl. Without a job and with only a few pennies to his name, he resorted to trash digging in the local dumpsters behind markets on nearly every street corner. No one had paid much mind to him before, so he was shocked when Lana had called out to him one spring morning.
“Do you want some bread?” Lana asked looking at John and taking in his ragged appearance. The freckles, fiery orange hair, and distressed overalls he was clothed in, reminded her of huckleberry finn. The couple leaned against the Van (Lana still had the van) and Lana listened to Johns tale of misfortune. After a minute of thought, Lana was offered him a job as her assistant. The job by itself had gotten to an overwhelming point. Lana had to deliver the bread, stock the bread, cover checks at the bank, and handle all the orders. It was a huge operation for a twenty-three year old (with absolutely no business sense) to handle by herself. John agreed as soon as she finished her sentence. For a while, he was a great help to her and the stress of work was lifted off of her mind. For a while things were going as smoothly as ever. But this was only for a while.
Lana was upset to the point of eruption. She clutched the large brick phone to her right ear hearing the annoying sound of a line unanswered on the other side. Where had he gone? What was he doing? John had not returned a call or message in nearly a week. The time was almost 2pm and there was no way now that she could get the bread delivered by the deadline of ten. The whole week had been a mess, Frank hired a new delivery boy even after he promised her the rights to the distribution of the bread, John had disappeared without so much as a warning , and Lana was scrambling all over the place to cover all the deliveries, barely making them for the most part. The realization that this business was getting to be at such a greater capacity than she was ready for, hit her with the force of a Californian ocean wave.
Even though in her mind the business was falling apart before her, Lana still made an effort to mend it. Her hope was restored when she, discovered a new type of bread. The taste free, sweet free, yeast free, bread in a can, “Un-Bread”. Lana saw the potential that this bread could have, she saw all the money that she could make if it was put on shelf and if she could convince the bakery who produced it to do business with her. “I’ve gotta have this bread” she repeated to herself, she imagined herself a millionaire before 25 and that was enough incentive to drive the two hours to San Diego and speak to the owners of ”Un Bread”.
Lana used those words again, those words that had the power to convince anybody to do anything. She talked. They listened to the words that were wrapped in certainty and were convincingly potent. The makers of “Un Bread” told her what they wanted and she agreed to give it to them. “I can get it in Whole Foods.” She wasn’t sure if she could get them into Whole Foods, but she said it in a way that convinced them otherwise. They agreed after some thought. The deal was done.
She decided she would demo the bread in Arowan, A small food store located in San Deigo. Within a couple of weeks the bread had received an incredibly positive reaction and had met up to the expectations Lana had predicted. With the feedback being so great, Lana decided to be truthful to her promise and get the She decided she would demo the bread in Arowan, a small Health food store located in San Diego. Within a couple of weeks the bread had received an incredibly positive reaction and had met up to the expectations Lana had predicted. With the feedback being so great, Lana decided to act on her promise and get the bread into Whole Foods. She worked fervently day in and day out to secure a meeting with a buyer. By the end of 2 weeks, she had gotten a call back from the store and the next day she was scheduled a meeting. She used her persuasive power that was embedded within her words and that had never failed her before. The Whole Foods buyer agreed to sell two flavors of the canned bread. As a sign of confirmation, He took Lana’s hand and shook it.
Lana was elated. Once she got home she rung up the “Un-Bread” owners. After three seemingly endless rings, the other line picked up.
“Hello?”
“It’s Lana! I’ve got great news; Whole Foods wants your bread! I did it! We are going to make a lot of money together!” Lana let the thrill and excitement ring in her voice. There was a quiet buzz on the other end; no one said anything for about a minute. “Hello?” Lana said confused by the abrupt silence.
“I’m sorry Lana…” Came the slow regretful words of the one on the other line.
“Sorry? Sorry for what?” Lana began to panic slightly.
“Well…We are closing the bakery; our family has decided to retreat to the mountains.”
It was the first time that her words, those words that held some supernatural power, failed her. Leaving her silent. Lana slowly moved the phone away from her face, ignoring the muffled apologies from the other line. In just a single sentence, Lana saw her world fall apart. She dropped the phone, not having enough strength to carry its weight. It seemed, as odd as it might be that Lana had worked for this one moment. That this canned bread was her big shot to find true success, to earn money, to earn recognition, to find absolute happiness. And it failed. She took this as some sort of cosmic sign from the stars, she took this as the end of something that wasn’t meant to be.
This failed mission had destroyed her and in that destruction, opened her eyes to what this business had turned out to be. John still was missing, Frank hired a new delivery boy, and the canned bread hippies were retiring to the mountains in some remote part of northern California. A sudden epiphany took her out of her state of shock and into one of reality. Her eyes were finally wide open, and with that, she straightened herself out and decided to tie up some loose ends.
Lana stayed away for a week and 4 days. In her absence, Frank had called her numerous times demanding where she had been. She called Frank and told him she was done, dismissing his angry, erratic outburst, and hanging up the phone. She had, by some luck, found out where John was living and drove down to his address. It lead her to a trailer park. At first she banged on the door of the trailer John had supposedly been at this whole time, but when all that came back was the eerie silence of no movement, she decided to wait for his return. To her anticipation, John did not show up. Taking this as another sign, Lana decided to leave, placing a loaf of “Dough Boys” Bread, which she had brought for lunch, on the step of his trailer.
Summer, as is routine, came to LA again. Bringing it’s high temperatures and busy streets. Lana looked back on the days of the Zen Bakery, the “Dough Boys” business, and the canned bread which would have brought her millions. She didn’t regret a day of any of it. Instead she remembered every second, so she could look back, so she could remember how close she had come, so she could remember how much she had accomplished. Lana in a way felt relieved. She imagined her life like those Californian waves. Just like the waves roll up on to the sand, the clear water bringing something unknown from the depths of the ocean to rest upon the shores, Lana found opportunity. Her feet sink into the muddy sand. She knew that when the waves come again, as they will always do, they retake what is left on the shores leaving the beach bare and empty. Lana would wait. She would wait for those waves, with the fragments from the sea beyond, to cover these shores again. To make way for another opportunity. To make way for something new.
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