The man wearing the bi-focals with the balding pate and rolex was reading my resumé.
He had been at it now for at least ten minutes and was humming Carman to himself.
He stopped humming and starting to make a clucking noises with his tongue then went back to humming but this time it was Wagner.
He flipped another page. Crossed and recrossed his legs then he did an unexpected thing and picked up a gold pen and seemed to be making corrections on my resumé.
I needed to piss real bad but did not dare suggest a bathroom break.
He turned another page and recrossed his legs.
He probably had to piss too.
I glanced at my watch. Forty five minutes now. This was crazy.
Perhaps there was something wrong with it. Too long probably.
A fly was banging itself on the window. I thought to get up and kill it. That would be showing some initiative. Show him that I was a can do kind of guy but mabey then again too much
Initiative was presumptuous.
It was hot in here and each time I moved on the leather chair it made a farting sound.
He licked his finger and turned another page. I mean what could be wrong and why was it taking so long. I had done every kind of job imaginable from the time of sixteen until forty-five. I washed dishes, changed old men, stocked fruits and vegetables, sold womens shoes. Everything. Everything but this job.
He turned a page. Moved in his chair and re-crossed his legs. I could hear the swish of the expensive fabric. What a prick. I bet he needed to piss with all those lunchtime scotches and his tophy wife, and screwing the maid, and the baby sitter. Did I really need this job from such an officious little prick. Yeah I did.
I really needed to piss.
I started to drift off in the heat of the office and the rhythmic ticking of the fly trying to bash its fly brains out. I drifted off……and awoke to find a gold embossed business card on my lap. You Pissed yourself it said……..and you got the job, it was signed love Dad.
Dougal Roddy Stark, author
