The hectic streets of New York City have always calmed me.
Looking for a job, I entered the large building located in Manhattan, New York. A woman who looked to be mid 20s greeted me in a polite, fabricated manner.
Hello, how can I help you today, Miss?
I was wondering if your company is hiring?
Yes! We are, fill out this application and lucky for you, the hiring manager is here today.
She proceeded to stand up and handed me the yellow, cardstock application. I studied her body figure. Small hips and erected breasts. She had the idealistic model look. I had the exact opposite, curvy figure and overly tan skin for a Latina as many of my peers had told me. I wasnt societys concept of the beautiful house – wife. I felt as though I hadnt been anyones concept of beautiful.
I had placed myself into the leather chair and sank. I read the first question which hadnt been the typical Have you ever been fired? question. It had asked my IQ level. I had always wondered the importance of the IQ. Having a specific score stating your ability to succeed or capability of completing a task. It had angered me profusely. I had yet to understand the systems of the publics judge.
Once I had filled out the application I handed it to the young receptionist.
Ill let him know you are here, may I have a name?
Maria Ivy
As I walked back to the chair I heard the whispers of others speaking about my torn jeans and matted hair. It had been a week since I had been evicted from my studio apartment and I had been staying in a cheap motel. I had begged my Papi to let me come back to Mexico with him and he said the same thing as he always said.
Theres an angel in you Maria, God has plans for you through the struggles.
Several minutes of waiting had gone by and no one had stated my name while standing by the door. Just shaky interns squirming along with coffee and small packets of creamer.
The blonde receptionist looked up from her solitary computer game.
Mr. Smith will see you now, room 235 level 3
I nodded as I scurried though the glass door and went up the steel framed elevator that had a satisfying smell of my fathers garage. The hallway had plenty of windows providing the cream walls with the suns natural glow. Each office door seems to get smaller as the hall got longer. 210, 211. All the number came with me as a blur. 220, 221.. 230. 233, 234, 235. 235. 235. Oh shit. This is really happening. The door had look like carved dark chocolate. Doors are looking preferable to soothe my appetite.
I did a slight double knock on the door and opened it. The man in the room looked to be about mid – thirties with a small frame and a dark mullet. He looked up from his computer with a cautious eye and a fatigued smile.
Hi, Im Maria. You must be Mr. Smith?
Indeed, He looked down at a paper on his desk with a concerned grin. I see you are looking for a position?
Yes.
The interview went along as any other would with the typical questions like Why do you think you deserve this job? or How did you solve a stressful situation?. Time began to spin around me as my anxiety began to grow. I really needed to get this job. I didnt care who I had to work for or what I had to do. Maybe I could sleep with Mr. Smith for the job.
Id like to offer you this position, Ms. Ivy. He said as I made eye contact to the picture of his suburban wife and kids. Guilt fled to me like a wave.
I would like that very much, Mr. Smith.
Please call me Fred,
Noted.
There are a few things that I must discuss with you about the job requirements,
I simply nodded, and he continued.
The number one thing you must know, is that the company CEO, your boss, wants everything to be perfect and on time, he drew a deep inhale from his cigarette. the second thing you will need to do is always have on a nice business outfit on and hair must be ...uh... well kept, I took a deep breath in felling the harsh pain of his judgement on me. the last thing you will know is that NO office sexual relationships are allowed due to past experiences.
Past experiences? If you dont mind me asking, what happened?
Well, Ill only tell you this because you will find out different, untrue versions of what occurred. The boss, Mr. Montoya, had many affairs with the woman in these offices in which no one had known this about each other. Soon they all found out and got jealous, almost each one went to Montoya, begging for monogamy, but he had refused. Later that day, three girls jumped off this building and one survived in critical position. There were over 25 lawsuits filed on us from friends, family, and eyewitnesses of the atrocities that occurred that day and we lost about five million dollars.
Oh my god, I-Im sorry.
That, is why we dont accept office relations.
I took a deep breathe, inhaling the scent of printer paper and sharpie. I pondered about how someone could take their life over a past lover who had not truly loved them. Especially Mr. Montoya. I had yet to meet this mysterious man. I had evolved a picture in my head when I her his name of Lucifer with women in gold, laying at his feet begging for affection while he has not a care.
Fred stood up slowly and cleared his throat awkwardly. How long had I been thinking?
I think thatll be all Ms. Ivy, any questions?
None that come to mind. Thank you.
We shook hands and parted our separate ways.
