looking more and more threadbare

 I

Well, I was trying to stay on my hustle by working for this company that paid me to hold up a sign on the side of the road:  “Store Closing!   Liquidation sale!  50% off everything!  Everything  must go!” when my  cell rang.

It was my supervisor.

He told me the company was moving in a different direction and I was not going to be a part of it.

“Different direction,” I said.  “The store is going out of business…”

“You’ll get your final check in the mail…”

 “But, dude, why are you firing me?  Am I not connecting with motorists?  …I know, I make too much money, right?”

He  hung up.

II

Unfortunately, I ran out of my eligibility for unemployment benefits, having exhausted both the standard 26-week eligibility period and a 13-week extension, so I submitted a resume over the internet and a recruiter called me from Florida and explained, in excruciating detail, the job duties associated with the position as well as the company’s mission statement and how it was structured.  “Does it sound like something you’d  be interested  in…?” he said.

“Yes,”  I said.  “Absolutely…”

So he scheduled an interview for me the next day and I had to borrow  my girlfriend’s car to go to it because it was ninety-three degrees and my car had no air conditioning.

III

While I waited in the lobby for my interviewer, two security guards were commiserating about another employee.

“The dude is so paranoid…”

“Totally paranoid…”

“Everyone’s out to get him…”

“And I thought I had trust issues…”

“You know he got written up the other day for too many tardies…”

“It’s that heffer he’s messin’ around with…”

A cell phone rang.  It belonged to the one who made the comment  about the heffer.  She answered it and immediately began arguing with the caller about the laundry not being done.  The conversation became so contentious that the other security guard had to tap her on the shoulder and ask her to take the call outside.

As the security guard walked toward the door, she said, “I don’t care if you have all the clean clothes you need for the week…you are the laziest piece of s**t I have ever known…if you would just put down that goddamn remote and take ten minutes to…”

IV

Ten minutes later I was greeted by two young women who escorted me  into a tiny conference room where they proceeded to ask me questions  like:

“What frustrates you on the job?”

“What education and experience do you bring to this position?”

“Describe a time when you helped your team achieve a goal.”

Neither one of them made eye contact with me as I answered  their questions. Instead, they were both feverishly writing down everything I said and waiting for me to finish completing my answers so they could ask me the next question from the form.

When the interview concluded, my tie was off before I reached my girlfriend’s car.

V

The next day, the recruiter called, offering me the position.

“It  pays twenty thousand dollars,” and he began parsing the benefits  package.  “Any questions so far…?”

That’s  less than I make now, I  thought.  That  sucks.  “Is there any wiggle room as far as the salary is concerned…?”

The recruiter paused.  “Uhh… there very well may be some wiggle room… can’t say there will be…  can’t say there won’t be… I  think there may be some wiggle room…  I think… but, of course,  that is totally beyond  my realm of control… it’s a corporate decision…I am merely the messenger…I do want you to understand, though, that this part of the conversation never  happened, ok?…  Do you read me…?”

“Yessir…”

“It never happened… It was not discussed…What I will need you to do is think about it over the weekend… come back to me Monday, tell me, I decline the offer of twenty thousand, but would like to counter with X… you understand…?”

“I  do…”

“I will  then take X to my bosses who will in turn either accept your offer of X, or decline it… understand, though, there will not be a second or third round of negotiations… so come prepared on Monday morning to give me your maximum offer…alright?”

“Understand,” I say.

 VI

 Monday morning, I called the recruiter.

 “I’m declining the offer of twenty  thousand,” I said.  “But would like to counter with thirty…”

 The  recruiter giggled.  “For this job?”

 He had a point.

 So I accepted his offer of  twenty grand.

 I  didn’t have much choice.

 It was either take the job or move into the men’s shelter.

 What the hell.

 I guess there are worse jobs than being the mascot of a soul food chain restaurant.