by Roman Koidl
We all met in one of the several bars in the city. Loretta was busy that night. Therefore, she wasn’t able to make it.
John was waiting outside for me.
“There you are. I was waiting for ever,” he greeted me impatiently., “When is your friend arriving?” he asked before I was able to greet him back.
“Not sure. Any minute I guess,” I replied leading the way into the bar.
“Is she hot?” he asked with sparkling eyes as we walked over to a free table.
“She’s pretty,” I replied as I was sitting down.
“So how is the job hunt doing?” John asked.
“It’s doing OK,” I replied glancing over the drink menu.
“Pat. I’m worried about you,” he said looking at me.
“You need some work experience. Just take a job. You studied law.”
“I understand but honestly, the offers that I get are cheeky. Either they are offering me an unpaid or really low paid internship or an entry level position that is paid terribly as well,” I explained to him.
“You have to start somewhere,” he replied shaking his head, “Don’t be so picky,” he continued.
“I understand, but I want to start with the right thing,” I defended myself, not being convinced of my own words.
“You should never react out of fear,” I said, seeing Sarah entering the bar.
I smiled at her, piloting her with my hands over to us.
“Hey, how are you? This is my good friend John,” I introduced them as Sarah stood in front of the table.
“Hi, Pat has told me a lot about you,” John replied smiling at her.
“Wow, I hope just bad things,” she laughed taking a seat.
“Sarah. You arrived at the right time. Do you think I should jump into the next best job I get offered?” I asked her trying to find some back up.
“No, absolutely not. You studied and have a lot of potential to offer. Why get used by some jerks?” she replied taking my side.
“Sure. But you have to get your foot in the door first,” John tried to defend his position.
“Yes, that’s true. But are you happy in your job?” Sarah asked John who didn’t expect this question.
“Well, not really,” he replied turning his eyes to the ground.
“So what is your dream job then?” I pitched in.
“That doesn’t really matter right now,” he tried to escape my question.
“No, tell us. What is your true dream?” I asked putting my hand on his forearm.
“Well, I would like to run a little hotel. But it’s too tough,” he admitted.
“I work at a bank and I am not saying that everything is great or bad but as soon as you start making money you start to lose your dreams out of sight and enjoy the money you have,” he explained to us.
“As I finished my studies I had to take a loan so I could afford the traineeship at the bank,” he explained further. “The costs of living were higher than the salary the bank paid their trainees. I know it’s insane that you have to take a loan to work. But it was like that and now I can say it was worth it,” he ended his soul striptease.
“In other words, now that you have money, you are distracting yourself with your current salary instead of following your dreams?” Sarah cornered him.
“No. It’s not like that. I would rather say, I do not want to take a step back and struggle again. And besides that, I have to pay rent and still try do my loan payments,” his voice gained confidence again as he was trying to convince us of his views.
“Ok. That may be true. But why did you even end up in a bank?” Sarah asked like an inspector close to finding the killer.
“It was the only job I got offered. I was unemployed for a year and it is interesting,” he said.
“What exactly do you do?” she asked further.
“Wow! We just met and you are asking me one question after the other,” he took a deep breath.
“I make sure that everybody has the right amount of money on their accounts.”
“Sounds super boring if you ask me,” Sarah blurted out.
“No. I have a lot of responsibility,” John said slightly annoyed about her comment.
“Well, it doesn’t matter who does what. Fact is, I don’t want to jump into something and regret it,” I took the initiative to change topics.
“Sure. That is true. But as soon as you have a job it’s easier to find another,” John kept lecturing me.
“No, it’s not,” Sarah proclaimed, slightly irritated.
“I was unemployed for a while myself and I got offers but they were disgraceful,” she kept talking in rage.
“The companies only want to use you. You have to work your ass off for years to get close to a good salary,” she kept going.
“You just said yourself that you had to take a loan to afford to do the traineeship. That’s ludicrous!” she said in rage hitting her hand on the table. “And mostly they offer you an internship at the beginning with the explanation that they want to test you first,” she said, looking for the waitress.
“Sarah, you are right,” I took charge of the conversation again.
“I am applying like crazy and all I get are internship offers. I studied and worked already at some places. And I have done several internships already. At the radio, newspapers, and so on,” I explained frustrated.
“What are you exactly applying for?” Sarah asked.
“Public relations agencies, law firms and radio stations,” I was stretching out my fingers as I was counting the positions.
“And what are the responses you are getting?” she asked leaning towards me.
“The radio stations are only offering me unpaid internships, the law firms are not even answering my applications, and the PR agencies say I’m lacking the experience,” I cried.
“Don’t worry. Eventually something will come up. If it’s meant to be it will work,” Sarah tried to build my confidence.
“Pat, we all know that you want to make money. But you have to start somewhere. You cannot start as a manager making 100k,” John started at me again.
“Maybe not 100k but he is able to make more than he is being offered right now,” Sarah started fighting with him again.
They went on and on.
“Well guys, I promised to head over to Loretta’s house later. I have to make a run,” I excused myself.
“The woman calls and Patrick jumps,” John commented shaking his head in disbelief.
“Whatever,” I replied putting my jacket on.
“It was great seeing you both again and I hope I can leave the two of you alone without that you killing each other?” I joked.
“Don’t worry. She’ll love me at the end of the evening,” John smiled looking at Sarah.
Sitting on the bus driving to Loretta’s, I received a text message from John:
Dude, Sarah is hot. Got a feeling someone is going to get lucky tonight
I smiled and actually was only thinking of Loretta. She was returning from a business trip. I hadn’t seen her an entire week. She was home already as I arrived at her apartment.
“Where were you so long?” she greeted me slightly worried at her door.
“I told you that I was out with friends,” I replied in surprise as I gave her a kiss on her cheek.
I was actually aiming for her mouth but always when she was angry at me she only turned her cheek towards me.
“How was your trip?” I asked taking my jacket off.
“Good, but I’m awfully tired,” she scratched her hip.
She was wearing the cute grey Snoopy pajamas I gave her years ago for her birthday.
“Do you mind?” she asked walking towards her bedroom yawning.
“No, I’ll be there in a minute,” I replied slipping out of my shoes.
As I laid in bed beside her, we started to talk about the future.
“Pat, any responses on your applications?” she asked resting her head on my chest.
/> I hesitated to answer. I felt I had to be the man and impress.
”No, not yet,” my voice lacked its usual security.
“It’s not your fault,” she eased my fear stroking my arm.
“Thanks. You are too nice to me,” I replied patting her head.
It’s weird. Always when she was nice to me or just talked to me I felt reborn. I really loved this woman. But I believed that I was not at the right place to find my dream job. The world is so big and has so many possibilities. There is more and I am worth more. That’s what I truly believe. Loretta on the other hand has a job here. She’s happy. She has a sister and a brother living close by. Even though she always complains about them that they are annoying and always want to be with her. But as soon as her sister or brother are not around she starts missing them. It’s freaky. It’s the typical syndrome of the grass is greener on the other side. Taking all of this into account, I didn’t see her moving with me to another city not even to mention another country. Therefore, I only kept applying in the area.
As always she got up in a hurry rushing through the apartment getting her stuff organized.
“I can’t wait for you today. Let’s meet later,” she said to me as she checked her bag to assure that she had everything.
Due to my drowsiness, I barely followed what she said.
Rinnnggggg, Rinnnggggg.
“Hello?” I said into my phone that pulled me out of my sleep. I glanced at the watch besides the bed. 11.32 a.m. Loretta left the house at 7.45 a.m. I felt like a loser for sleeping that long. Especially now being unemployed.
“Hello Mr. Wright. This is The Altana Group. You sent us your application and we liked what we read,” the other end answered friendly.
“Thank you,” I replied stoked.
“We would like to invite your for an interview this coming Wednesday at 4 p.m. Would that work for you?” the female voice asked.
“Wednesday? Sure. That would work,” I replied happily.
“I’ll send you an email with all the information later today,” she added.
“Great. Thank you. See you next Wednesday then,” I confirmed the meeting.
I was ecstatic. The Altana Group was a big international advertising agency. I felt good. If I got this I would be able to travel all over the planet and do something important. This was my chance. This place is serious. I would make money, could move out of my parent’s house, and move in with Loretta.
On my way home I texted Loretta about the good news. I believed it was important to keep her in the loop to let her see that I was trying to get something organized.
I prepared all week for this interview: Memorizing the latest business deals the agency closed, checking the web about my interview partners in the hopes of finding similarities between them and me, and trying to predict their questions.
As Wednesday approached I put my best suit on. Well, I only possessed one, so I didn’t have a lot of choices. I thought I looked good in my black shiny suit. Maybe I should have dropped the white tissue peeking out of my outer jacket pocket, but you never get a second chance at a first impression.
That’s what all the motivational advisors say.
Entering the agency, I wasn’t that convinced of my clothing choice anymore. Everybody looked very creative. Jeans and T-shirt. That was their business attire.
“Hello, My name is Patrick Wright. I am expected by Mr. Skladden,” I introduced myself to the lady at the front desk.
It was a very busy environment. People were walking around holding big white paper rolls under their arms. The bright light gave the open office the charm of a shopping centre.
“Hi, just let me check the computer,” the young lady replied with a smile.
“Please take a seat. Someone will be here in a minute,” she pointed with her hand to a black leather couch at the wall.
“Thanks!” I said turning to the couch.
Here I was now. I was trying to lose my nervousness by flipping through the dozens of magazines lying on the glass table in front of me. I arrived five minutes before my appointment and was actually expecting them to have me wait more than a half an hour. I sensed they like to -play such games to demonstrate their power. As this thought went through my head a grey-headed man approached the couch. He was blinking over to the receptionist to assure her that I was the person he was meeting. After she nodded at him he threw a smile at me, reaching his hand out to me.
“Hello Mr. Wright. Thanks for coming,” he greeted me friendly.
His other hand was resting in the pocket of his torn jeans. Even though he must have been past his forties he dressed like a trendy hipster.
“Thanks for having me,” I responded enthusiastically.
His eyes were screening me.
“You look nice but don’t you think you are a little overdressed?” he asked me sarcastically taking a step back looking up and down at me.
“You dress to impress,” I responded quickly.
“Don’t worry. You don’t need to dress like that when you work here. Please follow me,” he smiled walking into one of the many rooms around us.
He was bombarding me with the typical questions: “Why do you want to work for us? Where did your prior experience give you the ability to do the job as a new business advisor? Where do you see yourself in five years? What are your strengths and weaknesses? Do you have any questions for us?”
I was prepared for these questions. My initial nervousness turned into optimism. I was happy with my performance.
“Mr. Wright. I like what I hear but I have to admit that we would like to offer you an internship first to see if you like it with us,” he said crushing all my hopes for a real job.
“OK,” I replied dryly.
“To be honest, I am looking for a job not an internship,” I said
confidently.
“Mhhh. OK. Well it’s up to you. The internship is paid but it would only pay your minimum expenses like train ticket and lunch,” he replied quickly. “Based on your experience and age our offer is fair,” he tried to sell his position leaning back into his chair.
“I have to think about it,” I added, not able to hide my disappointment.
“Sure. I understand. But you have to understand that we have
other people interviewing for the position as well,” he added to my stress level.
I entered the room feeling like a winner, leaving it as a loser.
I knew, I would not accept the position. Work as an intern for several months to be put on the streets again? That was not what I was looking for.
As I left the building I texted Loretta about what happened.
I had a whole week of interviews behind me and all I was able to get were internships. I was in Africa, I studied law, I really thought I was able to make it. You have to start somewhere but I wanted to start at the right place. To ease my fears, I constantly told myself that I am not married, don’t have any children, and do not have to support anyone. So why not try to find the right job.
But honestly, I was shocked. I didn’t study to only get these kind of offers. It just wasn’t right.
I was scheduled to meet my mother in town for lunch and to do some shopping after the interview. Even though I still lived in the same house as she did, she always liked to meet in town. Always when we did, she gave me the feeling as if I lived somewhere else and this is the only chance for her to see me. I felt bothered that I was still living at home with my parents. Nothing felt right this day.
“I’ll have the Avocado burger with sweet potato fries, please,” my mom told the waiter.
“What are you having lovey?” she looked at me as the waiter was writing down her order.
I felt five again when she called me like that.
“I’ll just have the Cheeseburger with regular fries. Thanks,” I told the waiter leaving with our order.
“How was your interview? You don’t seem too happy,” she read from my agitated behaviour.
“It was
terrible,” I remarked playing with the fork.
“They offered me an internship. Again, only a freaking internship. I just cannot believe it,” I complained.
“Well, you were born ten years too late,” she tried to cheer me up.
“Not funny. Seriously, this isn’t good. I studied, I speak languages, I am smarter than a lot of them out there that have jobs, and most of all I am hungry and want to prove myself. I am capable of so much more,” I whined.
“I know lovey. Gosh, I wish I could help you,” she looked nearly as frustrated as me.
“You just have to keep trying. You are great. Never forget that,” she stressed.
“Easier said than done,” I complained.
“You have to start somewhere. You will achieve what you want eventually. But it takes time,” she said.
“The Avocado burger with sweet potato fries?” the waiter appeared, holding a large plate in his hand.
“That’s for me,” my mom said, looking up to the waiter.
“Don’t feel discouraged. There are people that are blind, broke, and have no family to support them, and they still manage,” she pointed out as she wrapped her hands around the burger bun.
“You’re right. But I am only asking for a normal life. I am so mad at these assholes. Especially this guy sitting there making tons of money offering me an internship,” I complained shoving some fries into my mouth.
“How do you know he has a lot of money?” she asked with a smile.
“Who cares? He’s still an asshole,” I repeated myself.
The same evening I met with Loretta at a small pizzeria.
“You’re late,” she greeted me as I sat beside her in the restaurant.
The dim light was complementing her tight black top. She liked to show her trimmed figure.
“Sorry. Had to help my dad with some stuff on his computer,” I apologized, taking her hand and kissing the palm.
“Don’t you think it’s time you moved out?” she asked me.
Her eyes looked tired.
“I’m not moving out. I think it’s time that my parents moved out,” I joked trying to raise her spirit.
“Pat, be serious. You cannot be happy in this situation,” her voice vibrated with intensity.