Then, on Tuesday, my uncle and aunt invited themselves over to see Lisa's and my new apartment. It was hell scheduling it too, between Lisa's busy schedule, my now nonexistent schedule, and theirs. But Tuesday, for whatever reason, the day precisely after I was let go, worked. Lisa and I had nothing in the house to offer by way of food or drink. We'd been so busy with work and wedding planning we hadn't gone food shopping. So, not wanting to look like some shmuck that has people over to his house and doesn't feed them, I went to Safeway to buy some cake and sodas (I figured I could always make them tea if they didn't want soda, left over soda is always something I like having, and if they didn't want either, there's always water - I'm a genius). And there I was, wandering through Baked Goods, looking for just the right flavors of Enteman's Light Cakes that would be good as left-overs, but also appealing as freshly offered snacks. As I was making my way through the pastries, I noticed a young, Latino fellow about 5'10", wearing very neatly taken care of jeans, a black coat much like one I own, and sunglasses. This was the evening, and he was wearing sunglasses - but not like the thick and dark black sunglasses you might instantly picture upon hearing the word 'sunglasses', but these were more fashionable (and by 'fashionable' I mean completely devoid of any function). These glasses were translucent enough that I could clearly make out his eyes, and reflected just enough of the stores light in a silvery hue to be annoying to anyone looking at him. The more I browsed for the right cakes, the closer I noticed he was getting. He eventually got close enough that I was able to hear him whisper to me, "Hey." "Hey." "Hey, um, you hiring?" "What?" "Are you hiring?" "Hiring what?" "You know." "No, I don't know. Hiring what?" "No, man…," and off he went. I didn't care where he went, and I made my way to the soda aisle. With a bottle of Pepsi in the basket and my eyes searching for a second flavor, guess who was browsing his way down the aisle to me. This time, attempts at whispering now abandoned, he asks, "Hey, man, are you hiring?" "Hiring for what?" "Are you hiring? Whatever you need someone to do I can do. I've got skills." "Good for you." "So, are you hiring?" "Where the hell do you think I work that I'd be hiring?" "No, man…," and he was off again. I grabbed whatever bottle that was in front of me (Brisk Iced Tea I learned when I got home), and made for the checkout counter. The lined moved fast, I paid, I left. On my way to the exit door I hear from behind me, "Hey man!" He was trying to catch up to me, waving and signaling with his hand. I got to the car, didn't bother to find a radio station or check my mirrors before I left and just left. Wherever I go, the freaks go, and they always want to talk to me. Why, I don't know. Why they want to talk to me about hiring the day after I lost my job? I don't know. What do I know? This is a damn funny story. Footnote |
