The Market

Jason re-knotted his tie and took a deep breath before exiting his car.  It had been a rough couple of years since he got out of college.  He had a job right after his graduation, but, with a lack of seniority, he fell on the wrong side of downsizing.  Since then, he hadn’t been able to land a full-time job, so he tried to get by doing minor part-time jobs.  Small painting jobs.  Mowing lawns.  Whatever he could do to keep a small trickle of income coming in.  Today, though, was his twenty-seventh birthday.  And, he had one wish that today was going to be his day.

         He sat in the small waiting room with the other applicants waiting for his name to be called.  A wide spectrum of people filled the space.  He had found that to be the norm; applicants were plentiful, jobs weren’t.  The guy next to him had to be approaching fifty, nervously wringing his hands waiting to be called.  The girl across the way put forth a sunshiny demeanor, but he wondered what demons of doubts wrestled underneath her façade.  And, then, next to her was the stereotypical guy who didn’t belong.  His dress was business casual, a step down from the rest of the room, and he topped it off by wearing sandals.  Sandals, when everyone else was in high heels or wingtips.  He knew that guy would stand out, but not in the way he wanted.

         The receptionist called Jason’s name, and he walked with purpose into the bosses’ office.  The interview was a near carbon copy of all his previous job interviews.  Firm handshake.  Fake laughter at corny jokes told by the boss, loud but not over the top.  Thoughtful answers at the same questions asked every time.  Where do you see yourself in five years?  What is your biggest weakness?  What makes you a better hire than the other applicants?  Another handshake to end the interview, and Jason was back to his car.

         No part-time jobs were lined up for today, so Jason waited in the studio apartment that he held down with help from his parents.  And, he waited.  And, he paced the small space, almost bouncing off the walls.  He watched a little daytime TV, unable to lose himself in the drama of finding out who was the father.  He put in a DVD, but his mind raced too much to focus on the plot.  After going through half the movie trying to keep interested, he gave up the useless endeavor and shut it off.  He stared at his cell phone, which simply sat mute.

         “Ring!” he yelled at it.  “Come on!  I need a job!  Just one lousy stinking job!  RING, YOU STUPID PHONE!  RING!”

         He slammed the phone down on his shabby second-hand dining table.

         “TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS!” he raged to the empty apartment.  “I’m tired of mowing lawns!  I’m tired of painting fences!  I deserve a real job!  RING, PHONE, RING!”

         He stared at the phone, lying in the middle of the table.  Still silence.

         Jason yelled, just rage pouring from him now.  Words were no longer pouring from him, just sounds.  He stormed across the apartment and shoved over his futon sending it crashing to the floor.  He knew that wasn’t a wise move or how one should treat their sofa/bed.  But, he didn’t care anymore.  Red faced, he slammed his fists into the tipped over futon.  One fist after the other, the cushions absorbing the rage induced blows.  He was so caught up in pounding the defenseless futon that it took him a minute to realize the phone was ringing.

         He raced over to the phone and snatched it off the table.

         “Hello?”

         “Jason, you sound out of breath.  This is Mr. Marcus from this morning.  Is it a good time?”

         “Yes, sir.  It is a good time.  I was, uh, just moving some furniture around my place.”

         “I see.  Well, no reason for me to beat around the bush.  You’re who I want for the job.  Come see my receptionist tomorrow to fill out some paperwork, and you start on Monday.”

         “Thank you, sir!  I won’t let you down!”

         “Good to hear.  See you on Monday.”

         He almost didn’t believe his own ears.  A job.  A job!  It had taken a while, but he had finally broken through.  He couldn’t have had a bigger Birthday wish, and it had come true.  He could start moving on with his life.  He wasn’t chasing jobs anymore, filling his day with part-time work trying just to scrape by.  At twenty-seven, things were now looking up for Jason.

         Twenty-seven years and counting.