(A Blast from the Past)
By Butch Freedman
I needed the job. I’d been out of work for six months, living on unemployment and the occasional sale of one of my silly stories. But pickings were slim, and I liked to eat regularly. So here I was in the reception area for this upscale supermarket chain, one of the healthy, new-agey ones, waiting for a job interview. I told myself to play it straight, and to smile. My ex-wife had told me that I never smiled and that it turned people off. I said that I only smiled when I meant it. She said, “So, then mean it, asshole.” Not long after we were divorced.
The receptionist told me that I was very lucky. “Over a hundred people applied for this job.”
“Cool, ” I said. “How many are interviewing?”
“Can’t tell you that.” She laughed. “But Mr. Martini will be right with you.”
Twenty minutes later, when I was debating with myself whether to get out of there, Martini appeared and beckoned me into his office. The guy looked like he was straight out of college. He could have been my son. Shit, I thought. What the hell I am doing here?
“So you want to work for Whole World Foods?” he started, after seating himself behind a green metal desk.
“Guess so.” I tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace.
“Why is that, Robert?”
“Why is what?” I didn’t like him using my first name; nobody called me Robert.
“Well, why do you want to serve in the grocery field?”
I reminded myself that I needed this job. “I’m a hard worker” is all I came up with. Then added. “I’m a very punctual cat.”
“You’re a cat?” Martini looked puzzled.
“It’s an expression. Old school.”
“I see.” He rearranged the papers in front of him. Then pushed them aside. “Well, we do appreciate hard workers. No matter their age. We don’t discriminate at Whole World.”
“Cool,” I said again.
Martini stood and held out his hand. “We’ll let you know, George. And it was good to make your acquaintance.”
“Yeah, likewise.” I shook his hand, but doubted I’d ever see him again.
Funny thing, though, the next day, as I was having my breakfast the phone rang. I answered reluctantly. At this point in my life, I was not expecting good news. “Is this Robert?” a chirpy voice asked.
“Who’s this?” I muttered, expecting a sales pitch of some sort. And in no mood for it.
“This is Cindy. From Whole World.”
“Whole World what?” I was ready to hang up.
“Whole World Foods. You interviewed with Mr. Martini yesterday?”
“Oh yeah, that. I didn’t expect to hear from you. Did I leave something there?”
“No, Robert. That’s not it at all. Mr. Martini would like you to come to work for us.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all. Mr. Martini said he admired your work ethic. And your experience. He said we need older workers like you.”
“That’s crazy.” I thought for a minute someone was pranking me. But I hadn’t told anyone that I had applied for this job.
“Well, we have an opening in our training program. It starts next week. You’ll receive full pay while training. Can you start next week?”
“Damn, I can start today if you want.” I was starting to believe this was really happening.
“That won’t be necessary,” Cindy said. “Next week will be fine. And I’ll send you all the info today. There’s a few more forms you’ll need to fill out.”
“Wow,” was all I could manage. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank us, Robert. We’re glad here at Whole World Foods to have you on board.”
I stopped myself from telling her not to call me Robert. That could come later. “Well, I guess I’ll see you next week then.”
“See you then,” Cindy said, still chirpy. I guess she had to sound like that in her job. It gave me pause. What was I getting myself in to?
