Day 294 on Steemit – Have You Ever Said the H-word at a Job Interview?

 

This morning I was so fucking excited for my job interview at a nice restaurant, but can an ex-con catch a break?

Hell no!

I even showed up a half hour early so I could buy an Egg McMuffin, but those fuckers stopped me as I walked in the door, yelling, “Sir... Sir! No shoes, no shirt, no service!”

I yelled back, “They’re flip-flops!” but then some woman in line handed me some change and said I could buy a shirt across the street at Goodwill.

Even without a hangover this would still be humiliating. So did I get my Egg McMuffin and time to relax to find my happy place before my interview?

No!

I was so mad that I kept kicking the parking lot garbage can, but then I remembered that the prison therapist says that I have to be more positive.

I tried to calm down, but one question remained, What the hell happened to my shirt? When I left the house last night I was wearing a shirt, but I still can’t remember what I did with it.

I picked up a Texican-style shirt, because it smelled the best and it fit into my budget, then I headed back to the restaurant for the interview.

From the beginning the manager was openly hostile, just because I’m an ex-con. I tried to suck it up and say all the right things, but then he got personal and I lost my cool and accidentally said the H-word.

It was like a car wreck, I could see the words flowing out of my mouth, but I was helpless to stop them. “Flip-flops are shoes you God-damn honky!”

Everything stopped, even the people eating were now just starring at us. Then he gave an elitist click of his pen and said, “Well, ok then!” while beginning to stand up.

I knew that I had to act fast so I grabbed his tie so he couldn’t get away and said, “I need this job so I can make my parole! I’m a hard worker and I will literally...” “If you don’t leave right now I’m calling the cops!” He interrupted while yanking his tie out my hands.

Can you believe that shit?

As I got up from the table I asked if I could have an Egg McMuffin, but then he began to taunt me in front of the entire restaurant. “Sir, breakfast ended over three hours ago, just get out!”

I wanted to hit him, everything in me was screaming, “Fuck him up!” But I knew that’s what he wanted. He thinks that just because I’m an ex-con he can shit all over me and he might be right during business hours, but when the store closes and he has to walk across the parking lot… I’ll be waiting.

 

 

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