The interview didn’t go very well.
The front door opened with a bang, “I’m late,” gasped the woman in a skirt and matching blazer. She frantically glanced at her phone, then scurried down the hall.
The receptionist watched the woman go, shaking her head in dismay, “I would reschedule you, but the same thing will happen.”
“Was that Jessica White?” Alys followed her with his eyes. She had dark, fluffy hair and a strange little hopping jog to her step. He had but the merest impression of her face, anxiety etching it into rabbit-like nervousness.
“Yes, and if you want to work here, you better follow her.”
Alys felt sure that someone would stop and question him as he wound his way through the building, searching for Jessica’s bobbing head; but no one looked up from their work. He finally spotted Jessica, her frantic face floating above the sea of grey cube walls. She glanced at her wrist, then dashed headlong into the staff kitchen.
The kitchen was a large room with a sink, dishwasher, stove, refrigerator, and microwave. An island sat in the center, empty save a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a case of weight-loss drink. Two different hands had scrawled on post-it notes, “Eat me,” and “Drink me.” The only visible exit was a dog door. Puzzled by Jessica’s vanishing act, Alys absently picked up a cookie. Something had gone awry in its creation, and no sooner was the cookie in his mouth, than Alys was choking. Desperately, he grasped a bottle of weight-loss drink, twisting off the lid and chugging it.
This was how Jessica found him, scarlet-faced, head thrown back mid-quaff. “Danny Joe, I’ve been looking all over for you. I can’t find my thumb drive. Now don’t hassle me about saving things to the server. You know I don’t trust that thing,” she pulled out her phone and let out a little shriek, “The meeting started four minutes ago. Go in my office and find it.”
“But I’m not-“ Alys sputtered.
“Oh, that’s right, it’s the cloud now, isn’t it. Answer this for me, Danny Joe: What happens when it rains?” and with that she was off, scurrying down the hallway.
 |
| Not exactly a pocket watch. |
Alys stumbled out of the room. He had to find Jessica’s office. Hopefully the real Danny Joe would forgive him, and if he found the lost thumb drive, surely he would be hired or at least looked upon favorably. Seeing a room marked Lounge, he opened the door. A group of employees clustered around a table drinking matcha out of earthenware mugs. “Excuse me,” Alys coughed politely, “Can you tell me how to get to Jessica White’s office?”
“You should try some of this matcha,” offered a woman wearing a top hat. Tiny goggles and a feather adorned her hatband. “We’re all mad here,” she took a sip of her tea as Alys gawped at her, “You know, about the wage freeze.”
“Oh,” Alys sat down at a chair on the periphery, “That’s awful. Could you maybe direct me-“
“And yet they keep hiring these supposed super-stars and paying them more than their current employees. Oh, time, everyone. Move one seat to your right.”
“Wha?” Alys shuffled right, the woman with the hat now sitting next to him.
“People were getting cliquey, so we decided to try speed-dating, you know, mix it up a little. Sorry, but I’m not supposed to be talking to you,” the woman turned to the mouse-faced man across from her. The spot directly across from Alys was vacant, so he sat quietly until time was called, then slipped out the door back into the hall. He would just have to find Jessica’s office himself.
Alys wandered the perimeter of the room until he found the plastic plaque marked, “J. White, Dir.” The door stood unlocked, and he slipped inside it, his stomach sinking as he took in the room. It was as if a giant child had been in there, knocking over piles of paper and strewing office supplies with abandon. He had just opened a desk drawer when he heard footsteps.
“Danny Joe, what did you do to my office?” Jessica gasped, “You didn’t even find my thumb drive for me.” She held up a USB drive in the shape of a grinning cat, “It was in my purse.”
“I’m really sorry,” Alys inched towards the door.
As he squeezed past Jessica, she seized his arm, “You’re not Danny Joe, are you?”
“No, ma’am,” Alys swallowed nervously, “I’m your two-o’clock.”
“Two?” Jessica looked at her watch, “Well, you’re awfully late.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I think I mentioned I was working on this story months ago. I ran into some road blocks (wrote blocks?) when I reviewed the original story and recalled how well developed it was. It’s a little like saying you’re going to do a short story rewrite for The Phantom Tollbooth, the only real option is failure.
Notice anything different? I finally have a graphic banner instead of the standard Blogger one. The background is of a cemetery, of course. Just remember, it's okay to trespass, just not criminally.