"We're not hiring," she said.
How can you say that?!? Especially when we have the HELP WANTED sign pasted up in bold, royal blue letters right outside our front window?
He just stood there. Head bowed to the ground, staring dumbly at his feet. He wrang his weathered hands around a winter hat.
I recognized him from having seen him in the restaurant before. It hit me. His clothes were the same. The EXACT same. This hinted that it was either one hell of a coincidence, or that this really was his only set of clothes.
A wave of sympathy and guilt rushed over me.
Fumbling through his pockets, he retrieved two folded up pieces of paper. Applications.
He had completed two, and in handing them over to our front of house General Manager (I use this term very loosely), Christie*, he made a note of it. He looked up and made eye contact. At first reproachfully, but he soon found his confidence. One of these was to go to the owner, the other was to be saved in case that first one was to be "lost" again.
Christie's perfectly ski sloped nose wrinkled. Her dramatic eyebrows furrowed. Ive seen it before; this was the look of judgement.
"Um, thank you," she reluctantly obliged, confused that he didn't listen to her original statement- or perhaps at his dogged determination. "We can keep these on file and we'll contact you if we have an opening."
He looked at her, dubiously, knowing full well he was being blown off for the second time.
Scooping a handfull of saran wrapped peppermints out of the bowl and scurrying them into the front pocket of his Carheart, he left.
Like many of the men who have approached Christie in her lifetime, she- the maneater- just as easily shot this one down. She even joked about it, flashing her pearly veneers, as I caught the words "dirty" and "homeless" being thrown around.
The message was clear. "You are not good enough."
Why couldn't we just give him a shot? We need the extra workers. Sometimes I say I hate my job. Okay...that's a bold-faced lie. A LOT of the time, I say that.
This is someone who wanted to work- who needed to work, just to live. Not for the luxuries of new Louis Vuitton handbags, or manicured extensions. He needed it just to eat. And you're going to deny him an interview because he isn't as well off? ...Must be nice, having that power.Shame on you.I talked the matter over with my mother... "You should tell your owner," she said. "If the man needed pants and a shirt, I would buy him pants and a shirt. You need to tell Wulf*."
Would Wulf care that Christie snubbed an opportunity? Probably not. but then again who knows. All I saw this as, was futile. Turning in someone above you, as I have learned from an earlier experience, doesn't always work in your favor.
I nodded in agreement, partly to appease my mom but inside I know it's a losing battle. It's such a sour, bitter chord that it hits. The want to make a difference, and the knowledge that no matter what you do, you are doomed to fail.
Times like these make me that hardened person I warned you about in the first post...
They bring out the ugliness in people. The reality we unspeakably thrive off of. The undeniable, poisonous truth.
I don't know what's to become of him, or where else he went that day. I don't know if there was a single kind soul in this city that took pity, or shed a light of mercy on him. I don't know if anyone saw hope in his willingness, his display of being proactive, or his potential.
If anything, I hope he found what he was looking for.
-LM
photo credit:
Rhode Island Future
"Tales of the Unemployment Crisis: Trev Hedge"
http://www.rifuture.org/stories-from-the-unemployment-crisis-trev-hedge.html
University of Nebraska-Lincoln News Blog
"Are Americans applying fordisability as an 'early retirement' http://newsroom.unl.edu/blog/?m=201105
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