Sorry to my regular readers for so long a hiatus from the short stories. I’ve been working on contest entries and in many cases, they can’t have been published, even online.They take many hours of spit polish!
Ya’ll may be interested to know that “Macaroni Salad,” won first place in the Red Dirt Writers Short story contest. If you look back in the older posts, you can still read it here. (The RDW don’t have that prohibition). I’ve also been shopping for an agent for my finished manuscript, “The Pig Wife”. So far the New York agents have responded with praise for it’s “poise and polish” and it’s “wonderful concept and strong writing” but so far, I haven’t found anyone who’s ready to grab it. I’d like to take a shot at the major publishers before I send it to the smaller, (but reputable) comany that has already offered to publish it. Anyway, here’s a bit of ‘flash fiction.’ Hope you enjoy!
Ya’ll may be interested to know that “Macaroni Salad,” won first place in the Red Dirt Writers Short story contest. If you look back in the older posts, you can still read it here. (The RDW don’t have that prohibition). I’ve also been shopping for an agent for my finished manuscript, “The Pig Wife”. So far the New York agents have responded with praise for it’s “poise and polish” and it’s “wonderful concept and strong writing” but so far, I haven’t found anyone who’s ready to grab it. I’d like to take a shot at the major publishers before I send it to the smaller, (but reputable) comany that has already offered to publish it. Anyway, here’s a bit of ‘flash fiction.’ Hope you enjoy!
Tie Score
Brian rushed past the business man buying a hotdog from the vendor. He had wanted to be fifteen minutes early for his interview, but he wasn’t going to make it. It could be important. Jackson Paper had a reputation for unorthodox hiring practices. It wouldn’t surprise him if they clocked when applicants arrived.
He had done his research. His secretary admitted that her boss’ favorite color was green and his favorite ties were paisley. He favored earth tones. The secretary that gave him the appointment said “business attire” would expected for the interview.
His last job had ended the Friday before. They’d given him six weeks of severance when they’d laid him off, but he hadn’t had much more than a nibble after sending thirty resume’s. When he saw this job posted on the Monster website, it seemed providential. It was only two hours from his current home.
Money was already tight at the McCormick’s house. Two kids in college, and two teens with driver’s licenses made for strict budgeting before he’d lost his job.
Michelle had tried to calm him. She’d polished his shoes and packed him a light lunch. And she’d surprised him with a new gold and green paisley tie. It was perfect.
“It’s an investment. Who could resist a man with such taste and style?”
“Well, I married you, so I guess you’re right.” He’d go to the ends of the earth for her. But for now, he needed only go to Dallas and land a job.
There were five others in the lobby. He took a chair beside a table, in favor of the one wedged between a fellow reading a Wall Street Journal and a heavy woman that pecked away on her laptop.
Brian surveyed the others furtively. The fellow with the paper was gray at the temples. His expensive suit was pressed almost like new paper. He oozed business acumen. Brian unconsciously plyed his hobby and guessed what kind of car he drove. Something nice, Mercedes maybe?
The woman with the laptop was the Escalade type. Probably blue. There was a fellow on his left with an obvious comb-over and a thin, intolerant mouth. He’d drive a Honda Accord. . . with high miles. Probably white. The last man was trim, athletic, and more tanned than the season warranted. He wore a wedding band with a cluster of diamonds and drove. . .Brian had to get a better look at the ring. . . Definitely a Porsche. Although he brought his Lexus to work.
The man who had been at the hotdog stand hurried in and glanced around before he took the last chair. He caught Brian’s eye and smiled. Brian smiled back and looked him over. Thin white hair, shirt a little rumpled, an outdated tie. His shoes were freshly polished, but near the end of their lives. A ten-year-old Camry. He was a long shot for such a well-paying position as Human Resources Director.
The fellow with the newspaper turned a little away from the Camry so he wouldn’t need to brush shoulders.
The newcomer balanced his hotdog and a can of soda on his knees and struggled to spread his napkin on his lap. Brian watched guiltily. He should trade chairs with him so he could use the table. But he hated to wedge himself between the Mercedes and the Escalade.
The receptionist stood and made an announcement. “All of you have one o’clock appointments and Mr. Allison wanted me to have you draw numbers to decide the order of your interviews, to keep it fair.
Brian felt the knot in his stomach tighten. It was best to be last, he thought, but now he’d have no control. The others took a number from the girl’s bowl without comment. Brian drew number six! He’d go last after all!
“Oh shoot,” the newcomer muttered. “I’m first!” He took a huge bite of his hotdog. A large blot of mustard dripped onto the center of his tie.
“Oh, wouldn’t you know?” He smeared the mustard into a streak. The tie was ruined. In any other circumstance, it would have been a small loss. It was certainly an ugly tie. One of the ugliest he’d ever seen. Brian unconsciously smoothed the tie Michelle had given him. It was so kind of her to think of it. They simply couldn’t afford a new suit.
The others glanced at the blot. They either looked away or smiled vaguely. Brian estimated that it was too high to be covered by buttoning his jacket.
“I should know better than to put so much mustard on a hotdog right before an interview.” He sighed deeply. “I need to do well on this interview, too.”
He nodded to Brian. “I guess you’re wise enough to eat something harmless at a time like this.”
“My wife packed me a lunch, but I was too nervous to eat beforehand.”
“An empty stomach makes me nervous. I wanted the hotdog to calm myself down and take my mind off the interview. It’s just awful luck.”
“An empty stomach makes me nervous. I wanted the hotdog to calm myself down and take my mind off the interview. It’s just awful luck.”
“Yes.” Brian knew that the others listened to the conversation, though each pretended not to hear.
A secretary came in. “Whose got number one? Mr. Allison is ready to start.”
“I’ve got it.” Brian noticed the man’s hand trembled as he gathered the paper napkin and dropped it into the trash. He glanced around the room. The others pretended to ignore him.
“Wait!” Brian said. He loosened Michelle’s tie. “Why don’t you wear this one and when you’re through, bring it back to me. I’m sure Mr. Allison won’t know the difference.”
The fellow grinned. “Are you sure? He’s likely to hire me on the spot with such a handsome necktie.”
“Well, he’ll think two of us have exceptional taste.”
The tie did spruce the old fellow up remarkably. Brian watched the door close behind him regretfully. It was a dog eat dog world, and Michelle’s new tie had seemed like a magic charm. But he just couldn’t think of anyone going into an important interview with mustard on their already-hideous tie. He’d have to let the chips fall where they may.
He waited as one applicant after another followed the secretary back. Where was the fellow? He understood that they were taking the others out another way, but surely the man would bring his necktie back! One by one they filed back. Still the borrower didn’t return.
When he was finally alone in the waiting room, he realized he must decide to wear the mustard-stained tie that lay forgotten on the table, or go with none at all. He picked up the yellow, gray and pink striped monstrosity. It was hardly worse with the mustard blot. But it was a business dress office and ties were the order of the day.
The secretary stood in the door way, beckoning to him. “You’d better put the tie on,” she murmured.
Brian wrapped the blighted item around his neck and knotted it as neatly as he could. He was almost glad he didn’t have a mirror. He truly believed it was the ugliest tie he’d ever seen. Should he explain? No. He’d seem like a whiner and nobody likes a whiner. And if a man was hired or not based on his taste in ties, it wouldn’t be much of a company anyway. The thought squared his shoulders.
The secretary stared at his newly acquired item. “That’s possibly the worst tie I’ve ever seen.”
Brian nodded. He didn’t explain.
The CEO’s office was thickly carpeted in a green paisley. One wall was lined with book shelves and a wide, walnut desk dominated the room. The chairs were deep and comfortable.
There were people in the chairs. The Mercedes, the Escalade, the Accord, and the Porsche lounged easily. The Ten-Year-Old Camry sat behind the large walnut desk, still wearing his borrowed tie. He stood and held out his hand.
“Brian McCormick? I’d like you to meet Rick Wilson,(the Mercedes) our CFO, Harmony Hale,(the Escalade) our marketing director, Jason Cox, (the Porsche) our facilities manager, and Max Hardy, (the Accord) our logistics man. The woman you mistook for my secretary is Mary Bloom. She’s the retiring human resource director. I’m Bob Allison.
“I’m glad to meet all of you.” He smiled a little.
“We’ve decided to offer you the Human Resources Office under one condition.”
Brian’s stomach leapt into his throat. “What’s the condition?”
“You’ll be Jackson Paper’s new Human Resource Director if you can explain why you wore such a hideous tie to a job interview!” The CEO grinned and smoothed Michelle’s green and gold paisley tie over his chest. “Now here’s a nice tie! Find something a little more like this one when you come to work on Monday!”
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