6,107 words.
It wasn’t like they wanted to work there. They needed a job. They were new to town and they needed a job.
But going there directly from the bus station, before even finding a place to live, was plain stupid. They both had big bags, and a bus isn’t a taxi. It doesn’t just take you wherever you want to go. It has stops. It lets you off and there you are. As it happened, the city bus stop wasn’t all that close to the store. They had to walk about 25 minutes with their big bags. The kind of oversized suitcases people use when they’re moving.
The bags had rollers, but they were cheaply made. Like the bags themselves. They chipped and dented as they rolled. Ironically, they’d bought them at same store they were heading toward. Albeit in a completely different part of the country. They hadn’t thought very carefully when they bought them. They went to the store because it was there. They bought them on the spot because they needed to get out of town quick.
They could see the store way off in the distance, but the road, besides being pretty busy, didn’t have sidewalks or even a bike lane. To get there they had to walk all the way across a big empty lot. It looked like the empty lot was being turned into a parking lot for another store of a similar type. But it was still an empty lot. Knowing it would probably be a parking lot in a month or two made them all the more frustrated as they plodded across the rocky landscape with their oversized suitcases.
The lot was dusty and covered their shoes in fine yellow powder. Their suitcases were also covered in the stuff. If they weren’t applying for jobs it wouldn’t have mattered. But since they were trying to look presentable, and hence, employable, it became just one more thing to stress about.
“I told you we should find a place to live before we got jobs,” she snapped.
He didn’t say anything. It was his idea.
“This is why,” she added. She was baiting him. Don’t take the bait, he thought. Don’t take it.
He kept his mouth shut. He could say something. He wanted to. But he was trying to turn over a new leaf. That was the whole idea in doing what they did. Getting out of town and everything. But it was hard for him. He was the kind of person that spoke his mind. Always. Said what he felt. Some people didn’t like it, but that was him. If they didn’t like it they could go their own way. He was his own person and he wasn’t about to change for anyone.
A few minutes before the interview they took turns in the bathroom washing the dust off their shoes while the other stood guard with the bags next to an ATM. When the manager realized they’d come directly from the bus, that they hadn’t even found an apartment yet, he looked them over like they were a little weird. He was a little suspicious. But he let them into the back of the store anyway. He told them they could keep the bags in the break room. That the interview was in the break room anyway.
For the couple that was a good sign. By letting them into the back of the store, into the area where customers weren’t allowed, it seemed the manager was showing then he was at least open to the idea of hiring them.
But the truth was he didn’t want customers to see them standing there with their giant dust covered bags. That said, the manager sort of liked the fact that they’d come directly from the bus stop. It was weird, but it showed they really needed jobs. That they might be serious about working there. He really needed some new people. He was in a spot.
He also liked the fact that they were a couple and planning to get married. The manager had been married eight years. He didn’t like being married, but he had a kid, so he wasn’t going anywhere. He figured they were all in the same boat, or would be soon enough. Once you get married it gets harder to cut and run. People do it of course, but it slows them down for sure. Makes them think twice.
The job interview wasn’t so much an interview as it was a conversation. A one-sided conversation. The couple didn’t actually end up talking much at all. Mostly they sat and listened to the manager go on about the store. At first they were happy to sit down and be quiet. They’d had a long bus ride and didn’t have a whole lot to say anyway. The manager handed them each a can of Sprite. They just sat there and enjoyed their cool drinks. And listened.
It was clear to them from the beginning that the manager liked to talk. He started by telling his own history at the store. That led into the history of the assistant manager, which led into the story of the head cashier. The couple noticed one thing right off the bat. The manager’s stories had beginnings and middles, but they didn’t really end. The end of a story ran straight into the beginning of the next story.
The woman had seen this sort of thing before. She was a good judge of character. She usually had people pegged within a few minutes of meeting them. She’d seen the manager’s type for sure. Mostly in men. From the get go the manger was trying to show something. Prove something. She’d seen it mostly in bars. Often, when the guy wanted sex. She didn’t think the manager was after sex. At least not yet. In a bar, when a guy started talking like that, she knew what he wanted. So she’d walk away or tell him to screw off or something. But she figured she’d better just sit and listen. At least for a while. She needed a job.
After he talked about head cashier he got into the “regular people,” as he put it. The first employee he brought up was a black lady. He emphasized the fact that she was black in a somewhat grave tone.
“She came out here from where they had that Hurricane Katrina.” He paused and looked at the couple. “Boy it was tough.” He stared at them. They weren’t sure exactly what was tough. If it was the hurricane or the decision to hire her or what. The manager had conveyed a little of both. But they nodded and so the manager nodded too.
“She came in here and I couldn’t say no. She didn’t interview all that great. You know people here in Livermore can have a hard time even understanding people from out there. Especially when they’re so…”
The manager trailed off, paused and looked at the couple. A little skeptically. He wasn’t sure where they were from. So he stopped himself and just ended the sentence. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. The couple nodded. First the woman and then the man. The water cooler made a gulping sound and the manager slowly looked over at it and grimaced. For all three of them the quiet was a little strange. It called attention to the fact that it hadn’t been quiet since they’d all walked into the back of the store.
“But the point is she’s a good worker,” the manager started again. “She comes in on time, she punches her card, she doesn’t steal, she does her job, and she goes home,” the manager threw his hands in the air, to convey how simple doing a good job at the store was. “She’s still here. You’ll meet her. Though she put in her notice 10 days ago. She’s getting married and moving out of the country. Too bad she’s leaving. I bet you guys would have really gotten along.”
The couple nodded a little. They’d only been a couple for five months. So they weren’t communicating without talking like couples sometimes do after they’ve been together for a long time. Still, at that moment they were both thinking the same things about the manager. That he talked too much. That they didn’t really like him. That he wasn’t the sort of person they’d like to be friends with. But, also, that they needed to get jobs.
“Another guy who worked here,” the manager started and then stopped, thinking hard of the right word to say. It seemed like he was trying to look emotional. Respectfully emotional. Like if he had a hat he’d have taken it off his head and put it across his heart, “di…passed away last week.” He looked up at the couple, closed his eyes and nodded.
The woman managed to look a little solemn, but the man couldn’t do it. Of course anyone dying is sad, but it wasn’t like he knew the guy. The guy might have been a complete jerk. That’s what the man was thinking. But he wanted the job, so he tried to look a little sad. But he couldn’t pull it off. He ended up looking like a surprised guy trying to look sad.
“He started here six years ago. Way back when this place first opened.”
The manger breathed deliberately out his out of nose. “He’s actually going to be very hard to replace. Or, rather, he’s been hard to replace. Already. You see, he was the guy…” His voice trailed off. He looked out beyond the couple, like was looking out into some great expanse. “He was the guy that did most of the ordering for the store. Most of the store.”
He shot a quick look at the couple. To see if they were paying attention. He wanted to see if the couple could comprehend how serious such a loss could be a store like the one he was running.
The man read it perfectly, and raised his eye brows and nodded enthusiastically. Almost too enthusiastically given that he still hadn’t conveyed any sense of reverence for the fact that someone had died. So he tried to take his reaction down a notch. He lowered his eyebrows and slowed his nodding. He pursed his lips as if to appear deep in thought. He hated jumping through hoops like that. He wasn’t used to it. He thought of himself as the kind of guy who did what he had to do and let the chips fall where they may. A take me or leave me kind of guy.
“You’d probably think that at a store like this, a big chain like this, with stores all over the world, that some number cruncher sitting in some fancy office way out in New York City or Denver, or…wherever…would be doing all the ordering. Right?”
The manager looked the couple. It was a test. A trap. The man sensed it again. He knew how interviews went. He sat up a little in his chair and stared straight at the manager. Expressionless. His jaw rigid.
“That’s right,” the manager said, lifting his hand and gesturing in the man’s direction. “We do a lot of specialized ordering here.” He started to shake his head. “What people want to buy in Livermore isn’t the same as what they want to buy in….Alabama, or Denver, or…China.” He threw his arm up when he said “China.” The manager paused and shook his head.
The woman had missed the manager’s test. She was still caught up in pegging him. She knew his personality type. He had started to remind her of someone she’d known before. A few years back. She couldn’t place just who it was. But she started to get the feeling it wasn’t a good memory.
“So he’s…passed, and since he’s been gone, the store has been in chaos. And I don’t mean to underestimate what I mean by that word.”
Nobody said anything for about 15 seconds, to the point of where it felt awkward again. Both the man and woman felt the pause again and were soon worried that if someone didn’t say something soon that the tide of the interview could turn. That they might not get hired.
“What kind of chaos?” the man finally said.
The manager started nodding. He paused before he spoke. “Chaos.” He looked directly at the couple. “Strange phenomenon.” He said “phenomenon” like he was spelling it out, although he’d just broken it into four syllables.
The woman squinted her eyes in thought. She looked over at her boyfriend who had also started to squint. She hoped he knew how to handle someone like the manager. She sure as heck didn’t. The only thing she knew is that the manager gave her a bad feeling. But then, she didn’t trust too many people when she really thought about it. Especially men. Yet, here she was. Trusting another one. Not the manager, but her boyfriend. Did she trust her boyfriend? Maybe a little, but not totally. She’d gone along with what they’d done because she was bored. Not because she trusted him per se. He was an okay guy, but he definitely wasn’t the be all and end all. Sometimes he was. Sometimes he really wasn’t.
The manager leaned forward. He didn’t say anything, but he looked like he’d just said something important. The manager looked at the woman. She started to worry she’d missed something. What had the manager said? She really didn’t want to blow it. They needed jobs.
The manager looked from one corner of the room to the other. “I don’t want you to tell the other employees this,” he said, pausing, then adding: “if I hire you,” parenthetically, in a different tone. “There’s been some stuff…some of its just bad luck, but some of its…” he paused for a second, “I don’t know…bad timing? Bad faith?” He cocked his head to the side in answer to his own rhetorical questions. “Mostly, just bad.”
The woman had to avoid the manger’s eyes. She simply couldn’t keep up the charade. She kept losing focus, then trying to catch up. One second she was acting scared, the next interested. It was hard. She looked at the lockers. They were a yellow/greenish color. That color, with the florescent light made her want to vomit. She took her eyes off the lockers and noticed six Dominos pizza boxes in the trash. She wondered if the store ever paid for employee pizza parties or anything like that.
“Of course, right off the bat, the ordering all went to…heck,” the manager continued, “No one, and I mean no one, has ever done that job at this store. Except that guy. So everyone, including myself, has had to chip in. But we can’t do it. The guy did the ordering 99.9% from memory. The kind of memory you only have when you work at a store since the day it started. That sort of data is anti-replaceable.”
The couple’s eyes darted back to the manager when he said the word “data.” For them, “data” was a word they’d tried to avoid all their lives. At all costs. From there perspective it was why they worked in places like the store they were interviewing in at that moment. To avoid data. They didn’t understand data. Data was big. Data was important.
The manager had sensed this would be the case. Which was why he said the word in the first place. With the couple stunned, the manager knew he was free to continue at his own pace.
“So we’ve had this coming in. That coming in. Everything coming at once. All wrong. TVs, stereo speakers, potato chips…wrong. All wrong. We’ve got stuff in there that wouldn’t sell in a million years, I’m telling you. It’s all wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.” He spoke like he was delivering a rant that even he was hardly interested in. Like he was too busy to deal with such problems. He finished what he was saying and just shook his head in disgust.
Then he paused and leaned forward with his hands on the edge of the table. Like he was about to say something revealing. “We ordered yard equipment that the main office told me is specific to people who live where it snows SIX MONTHS OF THE YEAR.” The manager tapped on the table as he said each word. He sat back in his chair, “The data... it’s important. And it’s gone,” he threw his right hand in the air.
He gave the couple a small smile. They slowly mimicked his smile and nodded a little.
Sensing another silence might take hold the man added “Does it even show here?” He knew full well it didn’t. He’d never lived in Livermore, but he’d lived in nearby Tracy for a few months a few years ago. He knew there wasn’t a chance in hell it could ever snow in Livermore.
The manager was more than pleased to have a chance to flesh his story out. “It does not snow here,” he said with a chuckle. “I mean, you might not know that it doesn’t snow here. You just got here. But let me tell you, I’ve been living in Livermore my whole life and I can tell you, it does not snow here. But I can also tell you, we’ve got 20 snow shovels sitting in the back of the store if you want one. I don’t even know if we can return them.”
He could tell the manager had been pleased with his question. He listened to the answer seriously and pursed his lips in thought again. Just keep up with him a little more, he thought to himself. He folded his arms and regarded the boss with a studious squint. While the word data had definitely startled him, he was getting comfortable again. He’d clearly shown the manager that he was attentive and a thoughtful. And the manager had certainly appreciated it. He didn’t mind jumping through a few hoops to get what he needed. Then once he was in, he’d go right back to being the fiercely independent individual he’d been the previous 30 years of his life. Nobody was truly his boss. It was just the way he was. Leave it or love it.
A phone started to vibrate inside one of the lockers. The manager turned and looked in the direction of the sound. “No phones on the floor,” he said, pointing in the direction of the sound, “Got to keep them in the lockers. Except during breaks.”
The couple nodded. The command was a little jarring, but the fact that he’d told them a rule at all was a good sign. Rules meant a job. A job meant pay. The man tried not to smile when he put that together. He didn’t want to appear cocky. But in his mind he was patting himself on the back for outwitting the manager. He was winning. He’d buy himself a beer once the interview was finished. Whether they got the jobs or not. He deserved it.
The manager stared at the couple. At first they assumed he was thinking about them. Maybe trying to figure out if he would hire them or not. But after a few seconds it was clear he’d either forgotten or didn’t have anything left to say.
“Ah, I know…” he finally said, then pausing. “Japanese soap.” He grinned and looked the couple quizzically. He loved to drop in odd little phrases like that. It was part of his shtick. Something he’d developed since becoming the manager.
“You guys use Japanese soap?” he kept grinning, continuing the pause. The couple stared blankly. “I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but I think whatever soap they’re using over there in Japan is probably about the same as the soap that we have over here in America.” He laughed out loud and then stopped himself. “I mean, SOAP is SOAP, don’t you think?”
The couple nodded.
“Well, if you need some fancy Japanese soap, we’ve got a whole case of it. But I should warn you, it sells for about three times the price of normal soap.” The manager shook his head, laughing. “There was a Japanese guy in here yesterday…” The manager rolled his eyes, pursed his lips and smiled a dainty smile, “I’m pretty sure he was…you know” He raised his eye-brows and tried to shimmy his head, “Anyway, the guy comes in and he’s acting a little weird. We get a few weirdoes in here every once in a while. So the guy’s shopping for about 20 minutes, and the next thing we know, he’s on floor crying, holding this soap from Japan. Like, you know, like it’s his blankie or something.”
The manager started laughing, but the couple didn’t. So he slowed to a chuckle, “You know what I mean? Blankie? Like it was his baby blanket or something. It was the weirdest thing. This little Asian guy, just wailing on the floor. No one could figure that one out.”
The woman smiled first. She didn’t really get the joke, but followed the manager’s lead. When she smiled it wasn’t really a laughing-at-something funny kind of smile. It was more of a comely smile. She wasn’t into the manager or anything. He still creeped her out, but she needed to come up with something. She was pretty sure she was blowing the interview.
The manager looked at the woman. He knew the woman’s smile had been a little out of context. But he tried to ignore it.
“I don’t mean to scare you off. But this place gets a little weird. I mean, everyone here is a little crazy anyway. A little wacky. Me included. I’m as crazy as they come. But in a fun way. But, since the gentleman I spoke of earlier, the one who did all the ordering…since he passed away, this place hasn’t been the same.”
The man was getting tired of trying to keep up with the manager. He was getting tired of trying to smile in the right places. In this, he slowly started to wonder if he could work for him. He’d had a lot of jobs, some worse than others. But a lot of that had to do with the boss. If your boss wasn’t a good guy, the kind of guy you’d be willing to spend a few hours with, it could make the job harder than it actually was. He didn’t want to feel that way. Eventually that would stifle him if he worked there long. He needed his space. Room to roam. He wasn’t sure if the manger was the kind that would give him is some space.
“Oh! And that same day. A another one happened. A woman…maybe Mexican, people were saying, came in here. She’s acting a little weird too, and the next thing you know, SHE’S on the ground crying. Holding some weird candy that had also been ordered by mistake.”
For some time the manager shook his head in disbelief. “I’m telling you, this place is going to….heck.” He shook his head some more. “And it all comes down on me. I’m the manager. It’s my responsibility.”
“That’s why I need some good people to come in here. The next few people I hire will be very important to the future of this store. I can’t have things getting out of control in the way they’ve been getting.”
One of the employees walked into the room. He was young. Maybe 17 or 18 years old the couple figured. He had a scowl on his face and he didn’t pay any particular attention to the manager or the fact that an interview was taking place. He opened a locker, took out a pack of cigarettes and slammed it shut.
“Ah. This, folks, is one of the best hires I ever made,” the manager leaned back in his chair and poked the boy in the kidney. The kid turned around and tried to make a face approaching a smile, but it was more of snarl. The kid was clearly craving a cigarette and wanted to be on his way. He held a pack of Parliament Lights out from his body, like a leash he hoped would suddenly and uncontrollably jerk him out the door.
“This fella is my neighbor. And his grandpa used to work right here, right in this same place,” The manager looked at the boy, clearly expecting him to offer some insight into the fact that his grandpa had worked at the same store.
Finally the boy nodded.
A big fake grin came over the manager. “This fella’s Grandpa used to manage the grocery store that used to sit on this very property. Before this company bought it out. Worked here…what was it? Twenty, 25 years?”
The boy longingly looked at the door and swallowed, pretending the question hadn’t existed. He mumbled something.
“Yeah, anyway,” the manager turned back to the couple, “When this store was looking for property they bought that grocery store out, and, being the kind of company this place is, they offered almost all the old people who worked at the grocery store new jobs. With us.”
The manager looked at the boy again and raised his eyebrows, half-attempting to allow the boy to interject something.
“So he worked here…as a greeter. You know the people who stand up at the front of the store and, you know, greet people? That was his grandpa for a while.”
The couple nodded and looked up at the boy uncomfortably. But they looked away as quickly. They didn’t want their gaze to keep the boy there any longer than he’d already been. It was clear to both of them the boy wanted nothing more than to leave. They each looked up at the manager. Surely he also knew he was holding the boy against his will. All the manager had to do was somehow indicate that the conversation had moved beyond the boy and his grandpa. That the job interview part of the conversation was going to resume.
But the manager did no such thing. He just stared at the boy. The words he’d spoken about the boy’s grandpa still hung in the air. The manager had no intention of adding anything to the story, but no one dared interrupt.
The woman looked at the manager. She really started to wonder about him. In her mind the manager was abusing his power. Everyone in the room knew the boy had been uncomfortable from the moment he’d walked in the room. He probably hadn’t even wanted to walk in the room. He probably just needed a cigarette. What a jerk, she thought. She wondered if she could work for him. What an abuser. She tried harder to figure out who the manager reminded her of. She was almost positive it was at a bar somewhere. Some guy hitting on her. Some creep.
She tried to think. Who was he like? She inspected his ears, then his nose. His hair was most familiar. Kind of dark and a little thin. But freshly trimmed. She had to give him that. His hair was pretty trim.
Finally the manager nodded, but not like a manager nodding to an employee. It was more like a king nodding to his servant. The boy took the cue anyway and briskly walked out of the room. The manager watched the boy walk out of the room. They could hear him ripping the plastic off the cigarette pack as he got outside.
Once the boy was gone the manager sighed out his nose. He brought his hand to his chin and started to touch it.
The man shifted uncomfortably in his chair. What an abuser, he thought. The way he made the kid stand there was downright awful. It didn’t bode well. Especially for someone like himself. Someone who doesn’t like to take orders from people anyway. His father had tried for years to get join the army. But he’d held out. No way he would have survived in the army. All that yelling and crap. Some people were made to take orders, but not him.
The manager turned back to the couple. “Where was I?” he said, “Orders. Soap. Candy. Hmmm…well, do you guys have any questions? I think I’ve said just about all I have to say here.”
For the couple the situation was bad. They both thought about what they’d gone through to get there. Everything that had happened leading to them leaving town, the bus ride to Livermore, the bags that were too heavy, walking across the dusty lot, the manager going on and on, and then treating that boy in the way he did. And on top of it all they didn’t even have a place to live.
They both started to wonder if it was smart to come to Livermore at all. Sure, he had family there. He’d wanted to spend some time with his grandma before she died. Neither of them could question logic like that. But was it reason enough to move there? To work for this kind of manager? They needed the money, sure, but was it worth it?
Neither of them had meant to, but as they sat there confused and a little frustrated, they started to question each other. They wondered if they were ready to make the sort of sacrifice, to work for this sort of manager, just to be together. They wondered if they were even really in love. If their relationship was going anywhere at all, or if it would just end up like all the other ones. They’d been fairly certain at times. But they also each knew they’d pretended a little too. Overdid it a little and there. Made themselves appear better than they actually were. Tired to cover up this or that. They’d downright lied at times. Both of them. They wondered if the other person knew they’d lied, and at the same time hoped the other didn’t know they themselves had lied. They also had the feeling they’d come too far to give up. They’d sacrificed more than they’d intended. Given up too much. And maybe, more importantly, received too much. What a mess.
The manager sat back in his chair and looked at the couple. First at the man and then the woman. “So,” he started to nod and smile a little. It wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was the kind of smile the manager might have given the kid. The sort of smile that made it clear he was the king and he was bestowing something upon the couple.
“You guys want to work here or what? You seem like pretty good people to me. I’m comfortable with you. How about joining our staff?”
It hadn’t been what either of them had expected. They’d both known the interview had been going pretty well, but there had been no indication that he was ready to hire them right then and there. They’d hardly said a word.
Like before, the words hung in the air. The couple sat there, their minds somewhat cleared from what they’d been thinking just a few seconds before. The question sat there. Did they want to work there?
Right then she remembered who the manager had reminded her of. Her old teacher in high school. Her history teacher. Not a bad guy in a bar. She tried to remember his name. Mister….something. Mr. Jones? No. Mr. Frank? No. Weird, she thought. Weird how people you know or knew can reappear in your life when you least expect it. Sometimes your past follows you into the weirdest little places. She kind of liked that about life.
In remembering her history teacher she started to change her mind about the manager. She had fond memories of her old history teacher. It was totally platonic, of course. She remembered him because he’d given her a chance. She’d never done all that well in school. In fact, she’d always school. She’d especially hated history. But that teacher had been ok. A good guy. She’d had problems. Not big problems. Not alcohol or drugs or anything like that. But problems. Problems that people have. But the history teacher had seen past that. He’d respected her for who she was. And in return she worked hard and got a good grade. One of the only good grades she ever got.
She wondered if the manager had any problems. She was sure he did. Who didn’t?
The man had also been surprised at the offer. He really didn’t like the looks of the manager. The more he’d talked the less he’d liked him. And then the thing with the boy. If the manager tried to pull anything like that with him he wasn’t sure what he’d do.
He looked at the manager. Still, no one had said anything. The manager calmly waited for an answer. In the background a voice could be heard from the store speakers. Telling customers about something that was going on sale.
He looked deeply into the manger’s eyes. Looking someone straight in the eye was something he’d had good success with during his life. But the manger was a hard guy to read. There was something there. A wall. He figured the manager was the kind of guy you’d have to work with for a couple months before you could really find out who he was. A lot of people are like that. He wanted to like the manager. For his own sake and for his girlfriend’s sake. Even for the manager’s sake.
He kept thinking as the manger continued to wait. He thought about how sometimes when we don’t like people, or situations, it’s seemed important to remember that we’re all cut from the same mold. We’re all the same. All locked into life. All struggling with the same sorts of things in our own way. Trying to make sense of the world. Certainly there are bad people and good. Situations that are worse or more difficult than the other. Tragedies that make us reject or embrace faith. No matter the outcome it’s all the same. We’re born, we struggle, we die, and the world continues in much the same way it has for millions of years. There’s no shame in this. There’s no reason to be sad or disappointed. Life after we die is much the same as it is before we live. What’s so bad about that?
He basically didn’t like the manager. That was clear to him. The manager talked too much, mostly about himself. He seemed to treat people with a lack of respect. He really hated that. But then a strange thing happened. He started to consider what he would feel like if he were the manager. If they somehow switched seats. He wondered if the manager was all that different from him. Sometimes he liked to talk about himself too. Sometimes he wanted people to just sit and listen to him too. Just the other night he’d had a few beers and he’d talked his girlfriend’s ear off about this and that.
All of the sudden the manager didn’t seem so bad. We’re all the same, pretty much, aren’t we? We’re all the same. All locked into life. All locked into death. We all struggling with the same sorts of things each in our own way. Some people are good, some bad. We try to make sense of the world, each person knowing deep down it will never be completed to satisfaction. That ultimately, the one thing we all want won’t happen. We can’t survive life.
He started to smile a little. He couldn’t help it. He looked over at his girlfriend and smiled. And she smiled back. Then he turned his head and looked right at the manager. He couldn’t stop smiling. He meant it too. He was smiling on the inside and the outside. Part of him wanted to cry. Part of him wanted to laugh. The manager’s small grin started to turn into a smile too. Soon, all three of them were sitting in the break room, just staring at each other smiling. They were all thinking the same things right then. That maybe they’d all made the right decision. That everything would be ok. They all had a hunch that everything would work out in the end.