Life and Lemons
Jordan
I was late for the seven o'clock train so I had to bite my tongue and take a taxi to my interview, ignoring the fact that I will not be able to buy milk this week because that's the money I am so selfishly throwing away via taxi fare. What would make it unbearable is if I don't land this job. The traffic was ruthless, even at this hour of the morning, and the idiotic driver slammed down on the breaks like a maniac, causing the very scalding coffee to spill onto my hand and creating dark spots on the gray of my slacks. Just great. I could only sit there and fume in silence until we got to the business streets of the city. A fancy building made of glass stood tall and uninviting, at least to me, alone on its plot of land surrounded by trees that were a couple of feet away from the building itself. The doors were also glass, mirror tinted, and slid apart automatically. Being trapped in the middle of them was an unpleasant way to go, and it was best to avoid that so I sort of sped in through them before they could fully open. Unfortunately, a large group of interviewees were standing in the lobby and saw me dash in like a madman. They didn't hide their amusement one bit, and it was an understatement to say that I was mortified. Ain't no coming back from that one. I joined the line of hopefuls with my heart in my chest and my gut telling me that I may be making a mistake.
There were not enough seats in the lobby so I and some other unfortunate fellows had to stand until our names were announced. I was sweating. I know I was because I was unfit and the stress of the interview wasn't making this any better. Many came and went, some leaving with confident expressions on their faces, others were either fuming or close to tears. The pits of my arms were sweating so much that it soaked through my button-up. I had to borrow a gentleman who was leaving's jacket to wear and cover the embarrassment. He was happy to toss it at me as a clear sign he'd been rejected, killing my hopes further. By now, I know I have lost a few calories standing there waiting my turn. I didn't dare sit down. I'd fall asleep if I did because my brain and body refuse to work on similar terms. Soon, I was the only unfortunate soul left in the corridor and as soon as I stepped in, I knew there was nothing there for me. Their faces said everything. They told me to sit anyway, which I did without removing the jacket.
"Good evening, Mr. Laurier. As you can see, you are the last candidate so let us get this over with," an elderly woman in an ungodly pair of the thickest glasses I have ever seen opened a file before her, the other two following suit.
"Right," I say, my palms going sweaty as if I wasn't already a fountain of perspiration.
"Your resume looks incredible, most likely the sort of person we are looking for, but..." she removed the boulders from her face and placed them on the table, pinching the bridge of her nose as if to quell an incoming headache.
"But?" I continued for her.
"But your wife is willing to sign with us if we do not hire you."
"What...I....I don't mind working for her..."
"Mr. Laurier. We are sorry. Your wife is quite a catch in a business like this. Perhaps in the future when you hopefully get on her good side, we will consider calling you."
Unfortunate soul indeed. I thanked them for wasting their time with me and left. Why didn't they call me and tell me that I shouldn't be bothered with the darn interview? I could have bought milk on my way home, and now Allison is going to have to have dry cereal. Lost and very unhappy, I sat down on the concrete stairs that led up to the building, dropping my head in my hands. What was I going to do? How could this have happened? Why was Venessa so evil? I wanted to call her and empty the bitter words I'd been carrying around. But I refuse to. A clear head in this situation is the best option.
"Oi. What are you doing out here?"
I looked up at her, surprised that my eyes held unshed tears, and a drop rolled down my cheek, further embarrassing me for the day.
"Are you alright?" She pressed a slender finger under my chin and lifted my head so I could stare into her honey-brown eyes. She was flawless!
"S-sorry, I...um....my name is Jordan, Jordan Laurier. I was, um, in the interview earlier." I was on my feet in seconds, trying not to seem as down in the dumps as I truly was.
"And by the looks of it, you were denied?"
All I could do was nod and stare at my scuffed-up dress shoes like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "Yeah."
"I see. Well, I do hope your day ends better. I'm positive your skills are valuable elsewhere."
She was a very kind person. As she waved goodbye and walked into the building, I was sure that if she was going in for an interview, they would hire her. She was tall, and beautiful with sun kissed brown skin, and had soft and hard features that complemented her shapely body. Her sharp and beautiful eyes, along with her ebony skin that shimmered in the sunset light, added to her charm. The way she moved was graceful, and her confidence was palpable. I wish I could be like her. Who was I kidding? I could never achieve the level of elegance that one woman portrayed in the little time she spent checking up on me. Now, I had to walk home because I spent the last of my cash on a damn taxi cab when I could have just waited for a darn train. The streetlights blinked on as I walked towards the main road, my mind filled with thoughts of what the hell I was going to do for dinner tonight. If I remember correctly, the refrigerator was empty.
