eob157
09-19-2014, 03:24 AM
It’s cold, very cold. There is slush everywhere from the snowfall a few days before. I pedaled harder and propelled myself through a shallow puddle of icy, muddy water. Turns out it was deeper than I expected. Slimy water splashed on my back. It was miserable out today, on top of the sub-forty degree temperatures; it was also cloudy and misting. I was miserable. Why did I think this would be a good idea? I tried to think optimistically but for some reason I couldn’t think of anything good at the moment. I make my way down the back road to get to a restaurant that I applied to online. They asked to meet me in person for an interview. I was excited, my first job, a chance to gain my own income and put money towards a car of my own. Of course I would have to wait a few months to get my license but I could at least get a head start on saving.
I finally arrive at the restaurant. I inform the host, a girl a few years older than I am, that I am there to speak to a manager about a job. She flashes a quick smile “It’s your lucky day, the General Manager is in today, I’ll go grab him from the back.” As I sit on a bench waiting for the Host and General Manager to return I think to myself where I have seen the girl before. I’ve never eaten at this restaurant before, never even been inside it before, and she looked too old to be a Senior at school or a Freshman in college. After a few minutes they return to the front. An older gentleman greets me. He is taller than I am, if only by a few inches, and has greying hair. He invites me to sit with him at a booth. I remove my jacket and hat and hang them on a coat rack conveniently put at the end of each booth. I realize that my hair is an absolute mess from the sweat and rain. I try to comb it with my hands into a more professional style. It still feels like crap and I can feel a few hairs sticking up on the back of my head: one of my biggest pet peeves. I feel like an idiot, I can’t stop feeling those hairs blowing around in response to the gentle breeze being produced by the overhead air conditioning system.
The General Manager took a slip of paper out of a blue paper folder. I recognized it to be my application. I had a copy of my own I retrieved it out of my own folder, a green vinyl one. I tried to hide the other applications that I had stored in there but by the look on his face I could tell that he saw them. I cursed in my head, having already slipped up. “Do you mind if I take a minute to look over this? I’ve been very busy.” He asks me, breaking the silence. “Take all the time you need.” I reply. I try to go over some things in my head, answers to general questions and questions that I had. I realize how nervous I am when I hear my foot tapping faster than the beat of the music playing through the overhead speakers. Finally he makes a move; he takes a black Bic pen out of his shirt pocket and asks his first question.
Forty-Five minutes later I’m on my bike again. A thin layer of water has soaked into my cheap gel bike seat. It seeps up into my pants. I am cold again. I am no happier than I was forty-five minutes ago. The interview did not go well. I couldn’t make a complete thought. I was too nervous, too distracted by little things. Luckily my hair is once again encapsulated by my knit hat. It brings me a small level of comfort. It is raining now; I decide to stop by the office that my Mom works at. It’s about halfway on my return journey; it will be nice to get warm again. I feel like I will never truly understand the pleasures of being dry however. My sweatshirt is soaked, my hat is soaked, and my pants are soaked. I try to pedal harder, try to speed down the road to get to the office. It’s too cold, the faster I go, the colder I get and on top of that my bones are aching. For the rest of the bike ride to the office I feel like the oldest sixteen year old on Earth.
Standing in my Mom’s small cubicle I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs ever made. She finishes typing an insurance form for a carpet company and swivels around to face me. “How did it go?” She asks me. “Horrid, I feel as if he gave me an interview out of pity.” I respond. I take a long sip of my coffee. “Well Marion, my boss has mentioned that she is interested in hiring a high school or college student to come in at night and do the mail. Are you interested?”. “It sounds like my best option at this point.” I head down the hall to visit Marion, the CFO, in her office. Finally, the bright side of today reveals itself. I’m warm, my hair is no longer sticking up and I’m on my way to get a job. I reach the door to her office, it’s open so I knock and enter.
I’m on my bike again, it’s still cold. The rain has degraded back into a mist. I’m almost home; unlike my earlier journey I am happy for I am the victor today. Through all the trials I had to go through today I achieved my goal for the day. I was optimistic towards the future.
I arrived home and dried off my bike. I head upstairs and take a nice long shower as a reward to myself for everything I put up with today.
A few days later I'm sitting in my new boss' office discussing how much I'll get per hour. "I'd like to hear how much you think is fair first." She asks me. "Well I was thinking because I would only be here for two hours or so a day that it could be around 16 dollars an hour?" I respond.
"Ha, wow, a bit higher than I expected to hear."
"What were you thinking instead?"
"Oh, about tree-fiddy."
~Fin~
I finally arrive at the restaurant. I inform the host, a girl a few years older than I am, that I am there to speak to a manager about a job. She flashes a quick smile “It’s your lucky day, the General Manager is in today, I’ll go grab him from the back.” As I sit on a bench waiting for the Host and General Manager to return I think to myself where I have seen the girl before. I’ve never eaten at this restaurant before, never even been inside it before, and she looked too old to be a Senior at school or a Freshman in college. After a few minutes they return to the front. An older gentleman greets me. He is taller than I am, if only by a few inches, and has greying hair. He invites me to sit with him at a booth. I remove my jacket and hat and hang them on a coat rack conveniently put at the end of each booth. I realize that my hair is an absolute mess from the sweat and rain. I try to comb it with my hands into a more professional style. It still feels like crap and I can feel a few hairs sticking up on the back of my head: one of my biggest pet peeves. I feel like an idiot, I can’t stop feeling those hairs blowing around in response to the gentle breeze being produced by the overhead air conditioning system.
The General Manager took a slip of paper out of a blue paper folder. I recognized it to be my application. I had a copy of my own I retrieved it out of my own folder, a green vinyl one. I tried to hide the other applications that I had stored in there but by the look on his face I could tell that he saw them. I cursed in my head, having already slipped up. “Do you mind if I take a minute to look over this? I’ve been very busy.” He asks me, breaking the silence. “Take all the time you need.” I reply. I try to go over some things in my head, answers to general questions and questions that I had. I realize how nervous I am when I hear my foot tapping faster than the beat of the music playing through the overhead speakers. Finally he makes a move; he takes a black Bic pen out of his shirt pocket and asks his first question.
Forty-Five minutes later I’m on my bike again. A thin layer of water has soaked into my cheap gel bike seat. It seeps up into my pants. I am cold again. I am no happier than I was forty-five minutes ago. The interview did not go well. I couldn’t make a complete thought. I was too nervous, too distracted by little things. Luckily my hair is once again encapsulated by my knit hat. It brings me a small level of comfort. It is raining now; I decide to stop by the office that my Mom works at. It’s about halfway on my return journey; it will be nice to get warm again. I feel like I will never truly understand the pleasures of being dry however. My sweatshirt is soaked, my hat is soaked, and my pants are soaked. I try to pedal harder, try to speed down the road to get to the office. It’s too cold, the faster I go, the colder I get and on top of that my bones are aching. For the rest of the bike ride to the office I feel like the oldest sixteen year old on Earth.
Standing in my Mom’s small cubicle I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs ever made. She finishes typing an insurance form for a carpet company and swivels around to face me. “How did it go?” She asks me. “Horrid, I feel as if he gave me an interview out of pity.” I respond. I take a long sip of my coffee. “Well Marion, my boss has mentioned that she is interested in hiring a high school or college student to come in at night and do the mail. Are you interested?”. “It sounds like my best option at this point.” I head down the hall to visit Marion, the CFO, in her office. Finally, the bright side of today reveals itself. I’m warm, my hair is no longer sticking up and I’m on my way to get a job. I reach the door to her office, it’s open so I knock and enter.
I’m on my bike again, it’s still cold. The rain has degraded back into a mist. I’m almost home; unlike my earlier journey I am happy for I am the victor today. Through all the trials I had to go through today I achieved my goal for the day. I was optimistic towards the future.
I arrived home and dried off my bike. I head upstairs and take a nice long shower as a reward to myself for everything I put up with today.
A few days later I'm sitting in my new boss' office discussing how much I'll get per hour. "I'd like to hear how much you think is fair first." She asks me. "Well I was thinking because I would only be here for two hours or so a day that it could be around 16 dollars an hour?" I respond.
"Ha, wow, a bit higher than I expected to hear."
"What were you thinking instead?"
"Oh, about tree-fiddy."
~Fin~