Cliff's Good Deed

11 - Cliff's Profession

Cliff studied Hannah after telling her he was a trash collector. Her expression remained neutral. He spoke after the noisy garbage truck drove away. "Does what I do make you think less of me?"

"Of course, not."

He couldn't tell if she was lying. "I worried after finding out you might make up some excuse to leave."

Hannah frowned. "Sounds like you want me to. Do you want me to leave? I would have no regrets walking away."

Feeling frantic but trying to stay cool, he said, "I don't want you to leave."

After a few awkward moments passed, Cliff broke the silence "Be honest with me. If I ask you for a second date, will you go out with me knowing what you know now?"

With no hesitation, she shot back, "That's a ridiculous question. I could turn it around. Would you ask me out knowing I'm just a bar server. It's hardly a classy profession."

He leaned over the table toward her. "Oh, Hannah, you would bring class to any profession you choose. Everything about you exudes class."

Her cheeks turned rosy, and she had trouble maintaining eye contact. "I think you're trying too hard to woo me."

They both stared at each other for a few moments and were interrupted when their food arrived.

Cliff welcomed the silence as they started eating. It gave him a few minutes to regroup and think of what to say next. Halfway through his omelet, Cliff set down his fork. "Okay, here goes. My grandfather immigrated from Mexico over fifty years ago with his old, beat-up pickup truck. At the time, my grandmother was pregnant with my father. He settled here in central Pennsylvania. To support the family, he hired himself out with his truck to haul away junk from businesses and wealthy homeowners. These were big bulky items that wouldn't be picked up during the normal trash runs, stuff people found hard to dispose of."

Hannah swallowed a mouthful of French toast. "Like old appliances?"

"Yeah, exactly. He found his niche and expanded on it. In time, he was able to buy a bigger truck and hire some guys to help. He grew the business and soon was able to start a conventional waste hauling company. By the time he retired, his company had contracts to service most of the Harrisburg metropolitan area."

Hannah listened and didn't appear to be bored. She eyed his fruit cup.

Cliff slid his fruit cup to her side of the table. "My father took over the business and grew it into one of the top ten largest waste hauling companies in the United States. When I turned fourteen, I started working with the pickup crews after school as a truck jockey, that's what they call the guys who ride on the back of the truck. I would pick up trash bags and toss them into the back. After high school graduation, I did it full time during summer break while attending college, eight hours a day, five days a week. Lifting and dumping, then more lifting and dumping, all day long. That explains how I got my physique."

Cliff's throat went dry, so he took a drink of his iced tea before continuing. "I also learned how to run the business, did bookkeeping, helped my father go after new contracts, hiring of staff, the whole works. I run the business now. My father is semi-retired and limits his involvement to overseeing what I do."

Hannah said nothing and dug her fork into his fruit cup.

"What are you thinking?" Cliff asked.

"These strawberries are delicious." She met his gaze. "You told me you were a trash collector. You should have led with the fact that you're a business tycoon."

What he said next would be risky but honest. "I was testing you for a reaction. I wanted to find out if you judged me for being a common laborer."

She kept eating the rest of his fruit.

"I hope my honesty hasn't offended you."

Hannah held up her spoon pointed in his direction. "Cliff, it's not a big deal. You invited me out so we can get to know each other better. There was no commitment from either of us to see each other beyond today."

Cliff wanted to finish his story, so he continued. "I still regard myself as a trash collector. At least once a week I work on a truck alongside one of my crews doing manual labor. It's important to me that my employees know I understand what they deal with out on the street. I may run the company, but I'm still one of them. It's a good workout too."

Hannah met his gaze. "Do you sometimes drive the truck and operate all those cool gadgets that grasp the bins and dump them?"

"Yeah, I'm certified as an operator, but I mostly enjoy the manual part of the job. There are still some neighborhoods where we have to pick up trash by hand that don't allow modern trucks. Noise ordinances and all that."

After they both finished eating, they set down their utensils.

Cliff had to ask. "So, how do I rate? Have you decided whether you'll allow me to see you again?"

Hannah cleared her throat. "Look, Cliff, you seem like a decent guy. You even offered me your fruit cup without my asking, which by the way, scores a point in your favor, because you paid attention to me and were generous. Those qualities mean more to me than what you do for a living."

"So, will you go out with me again if I ask?"

"Ask me, and you'll find out."

Man, she was such a ball buster, but he picked up on something she said earlier. "You seemed interested in the waste machine. That's what we call those cool trucks you mentioned. Would you like to drive one around our training course and operate all the gizmos?"

Hannah's face lit up like a little girl's on Christmas morning. "Are you serious? Your company would allow me to do that?"

"I run the company, remember? There's nobody who can stop me." Although that wasn't entirely true. His parents could object, but they'd never know.

Hannah fidgeted and seemed to tamp down some of her enthusiasm, as if she realized she had seemed too eager. "I don't know if I should."

He didn't want to lose her, so he pressed. "We don't operate on Sunday. The whole training center will be ours. Tell me where you live, and I'll pick you up."

She went quiet and dropped her gaze.

"What's wrong?"

"Anybody can misrepresent themselves, and I need to be cautious. I'm ninety-nine percent sure you are who you say you are, but I want to be one-hundred percent sure before I agree to be alone with you."

Cliff understood and respected her concern. "I get it. We're still building trust." He pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it to her. "Google my company. Have me investigated. Do whatever you need to do."

She scrutinized his card and dropped it into her clutch.

Cliff asked, "Can I get your number?"

"I suppose."

They exchanged numbers.

After Cliff paid the bill, they both stood.

Hannah smoothed her shirt. "Thank you for breakfast."

"You're welcome, and given our rather unfortunate first encounter, thank you for taking this chance with me. I'll look forward to seeing you on Sunday."

Cliff is still in it!