Click. “Three to five years experience.” Click. Click. Click. “One to two years experience.” Click. Click. Click. “Five to seven—” Click-click-click-click-click.
New website. Let’s lower expectations. Click. Click. Click. No, I’m over-qualified for this. How the fuck can someone be overqualified? “No, Mr. Wolfe, you’ll be too good at this entry-level position. Our business only hires the most ineffectual. And while your Master’s Degree shows that you have poor decision-making skills, which our business highly values, we simply cannot risk that you ‘bring anything more’ to this most basic of jobs.”
Click. Fuck Wal-Mart. Click. Let’s check my email. Click. An inconsiderate number of porn ads. No job replies . . . I wonder if there’s anything in the newspaper. I would have to put on pants. If I played Xbox, I wouldn’t have to put on pants. Decisions . . . Dammit. Pants.
Stands. Puts on pants. Leaves. Doesn’t take car. Needs to save gas. Needs to save money. Needs exercise. Thinks along the away, Six percent unemployment. Isn’t that what Romney promised? That’s a “revitalized economy”? Bullshit. Six percent of people who want to work can’t work. Six percent of the country’s job is looking for a job.
Gets dizzy. Stops. You forgot the anxiety. You have to control it. You have to. Don’t get so worked up. Survive. Leans on wrought-iron fence. Survive. Still dizzy, but has regained peripheral vision. Survive.
Outside of the coffee shop, grabs newspaper. Pats pants. Put on wrong pants. No pen. Dammit. Walks into coffee shop. Orders coffee. Makes eye contact with cute Barista. Cute Barista returns eye contact. She smiles. What type of smile is that, friendly or friendlier? She hands him the coffee. Her smile is gone, but maybe it’s in her eyes.
Sits. Opens paper. Reads listings. Looks secretly at Barista. She looks busy. She looks like a universe collapsing on itself: bright, warm, and small. Her gravity draws everything in, makes time stop.
Undergraduate walks in. It must be Saturday. Thinks if the Undergraduate’s apartment is clean. Mostly. Undergraduate makes Barista laugh. It is the Undergraduate’s way. People like him. Don’t be jealous. He’s your friend.