Page 26 of Resting Grump Face
How’s the new husband? Did you break him yet?
Not yet, but we’re both giving it our best. I really needed this vacation after three years of working non-stop.
I am thrilled for you. Now go back to whatever or whomever you were doing.
PS: I do indeed love you.
Love you too :-*
The email about the job interview arrives later that evening. Unfortunately, it doesn’t have any information about the job, salary or company, which makes me a little suspicious. It just says to come to a restaurant, that is located down by the river, on Friday at 7 PM. Signed by Barbara Dwyer, assistant to the CEO. That must be the lady from the call.
A quick google search reveals that it is a rather fancy restaurant too. Despite the lack of information, and in the hope of a free dinner at some too-wealthy firm’s expense, I decide to go anyway. Worst-case scenario, they’ll try to sell me on some MLM pyramid scheme and I will have to do the dishes to pay off my meal. It’d be just like your average tinder date.
After spending a couple of days with my cat and taking care of some administrative work, I find myself still at Olivia’s place when the interview comes around. It takes some time to go through my best friend’s closet, but I finally find a skirt and blouse that fit, even if they’re a bit tighter than I’d usually wear. I figure if my interview partner is a man, it’ll probably come in handy.
It’s after 5 PM when I get going, and arguably the second worst time to ride the subway (only surpassed by 5 AM, which is peak getting-stabbed time). It takes over an hour to get to my destination. A destination to which I probably could have walked in about half an hour, but then I would have had to change into a new outfit. This way, at least, I’m only a little sticky from the guy who tried to wipe his peanut-butter-drenched fingers on my coat.
The stiff wind hits my cheeks when I exit the subway, and I regret spending an excessive amount of time applying rouge to them. They’d probably look peachy enough just from the frosty breeze.
The restaurant appears even fancier than one would have gathered from their website, but apart from a valet outside, there aren’t many people around. I am a little early for the interview.
“Is this Hangry?” I ask the guy dressed in an official-looking uniform.
“It is,” he answers and smiles back.
“You must be freezing out here, especially with the wind.”
“I probably would be, but the vodka helps.” He taps against the inside pocket of his jacket.
I laugh and hand him the hand warmers I stole from Olivia’s place. “This doesn’t taste quite as good, but hopefully it’ll feel warm for a bit.”
Joseph, as it says on his name tag, accepts the pouches with a thank you and stuffs them in his pockets, sealing the warmth in with his hands.
“Anything you can recommend from the menu?” I inquire, trying to keep the poor guy some company even if just for a bit.
“Oh, depends on what you like. My personal favorite are the jackfruit tacos, but honestly, it’s all superb. Except for the vegan mac ’n’ cheese. They say it’s an acquired taste, but if you ask me, it tastes like my old socks after I’ve worn them for three days so I can sell them on Craigslist to some foot fetishist.” Joseph laughs and then assures me that the rest is indeed very good, when next to us, a heavy yellow car pulls up. It’s a brand that I don’t recognize, but I assume it must be expensive. The woman who exits when Joseph opens the door confirms my suspicions. She is wearing a long dress that looks like she is about to attend a gala. Only her necklace that says ‘Baddest Bitch’gives away that it would be a very interesting kind of gala. The driver, alsodressed in a fine-looking suit, walks around the car, adjusts his greasy hair, sticks the sunglasses he was sporting in his collar, and tosses the keys vaguely in our direction. I duck so they don’t hit me in the head. There’s no chance for Joseph to catch them, so he has to walk a few steps to pick them up.
The driver, instead of apologizing, laughs, then extends his arm for his date to hold on to. They pass both of us without even acknowledging our existence.
Joseph closes the passenger door and shrugs. When he sees the anger in my eyes, he says, “Yeah, that happens sometimes. As long as they don’t hit you, it’s okay though. I usually just move all their mirrors, so they have to spend dozens of seconds readjusting them. Plus, once in a while, I get a good tip as reparation.”
“That’s still not okay,” I say and stare after the rude couple.
“You should head inside.” Joseph circles the car. “I have to park this monstrosity. Enjoy your dinner and have a nice evening…”
“Sienna,” I say, and give him my best smile.
“Have a nice evening, Sienna. And let me know if you need a getaway car. I’ve got you covered.” He winks, slaps the top of the car and hops inside, then parks it in an underground garage around the corner.
It’s 6:45 PM, which means I still have a few minutes. The usher at the reception takes my coat and shows me to my seat. In fact, it’s not just any seat. It’s a seat right in front of a gigantic glass panel with a magnificent view of the river and the skyline behind it. We must have gotten really lucky because these are the best seats in the house. Unfortunately, they’re also next to the couple from earlier, but I try to ignore that fact. The setting is almost a little too romantic for a job interview.
I glance around to check if my appointment is already on its way, but it seems like I have a few more minutes, so I use the spoon to check my makeup and for any lipstick on my teeth.
As I put the spoon back down, an unfortunately all too familiar voice echoes behind me. “$5000 a week.”
The hair in my neck stands up immediately. I close my eyes and try not to reach for the knife on the table.
Breathe, just breathe.
