Wendell
felt the tingle of the vibrating phone under
his
left buttock, but endured it and sat quietly
awaiting
his turn. “No cellphones” the signs read and
there
were many reminders about the office. He
thought
the one over the urinal was a bit much, but
secretly
hoped there was one in each stall. It
disturbed Wendell that men, and surely women, felt comfortable chatting
while shatting without
regard for the receiver on the other end.
There
were sounds being made that anyone with a
trace
of grace or dignity surely would not release in
public, or certainly face-to-face, yet sensed it
safe
and sanitary, if scatterd over the airwaves.
Gas,
grunts, groans, and gushers...nothing seemed to matter, not even the
flushes. “Gross.”
He
suspected it was Bitsy on the line as she'd dial
back
time-after-time, and would continue until she
got
the news she expected to hear, answering the question of the year - did you get the job?!!!
He ignored her texts, and resented the
pressure,
yet understood her motivational fear and
fixation.
The
door to the inner offices opened and a jolly man
was
clapping the rail-thin collegiate heartily on the
back,
and when he saw that, Wendell's spirits went
slack.
The decision had apparently been made. His interview would be
perfunctory, brief and efficient, but his prize, and his pride, would
be empty when he exited.
After
a firm handshake and jovial " We SHALL be in
touch,
Mr Klump. Can I call you Jimmy?"
"You
may call me whatever you please, sir."
They
shared their laughter down the hallway, where the round
man held the door and bade the younger man 'good day'.
The
round man returned, and looked around for another likely
candidate, but found only Wendell, gazing up from
his frayed Readers Almanac with keyed-up anticipation.
"You
the last?", the man asked, barely hiding his irritation. Wendell
arose and held out his hand, but the man gestured instead, to follow.
So Wendell followed, as his butthole tingled," give it a
break, Bitsy!", he thought,
as he lagged behind, much like following his hangman to the gallows.
The
round man sat down, his leather chair gasping
for
air, let out a pphhhuuusssshhh, as it compressed
beneath
his girth. The round man then murmured as he reviewed
Wendell's resume, then stood up smartly, and
with Wendell expecting the worst, the man said, "Allow me
to relieve myself", as a statement, not a question,then
smartly left the room.
Bitsy
dialed again, and this time Wendell extracted
the
phone and saw her text:
"how is it going?"
"how is it going?"
"Not
good" he tapped.
"You
blow the interview?"
"No,
but geezer doesn't like me."
"Can
you change his mind?"
"Doubtful"
“He
there?”
“Toilet.”
“Ugh.”
“Gotta
go!”
“Put
your phone on his desk!”
“NO!”
"Do
it or you're dead."
So
he did as she said. He felt the floor rumble as
the
big man returned and flopped back in his chair
and
start to shuffle papers, and resume reviewing the resume where he had left off. Then he
stopped and noticed the phone. He stared for awhile then said,
"
...this yours?"
Oh,
yes sir, just letting my wife know I'm running
late...sorry
I..."
"
I see. Yes, I understand...Women."
"Yes, Sir."
"When can you start?"
"What!?"
“The
sooner the better!”
There
were handshakes and affirmations, and
Wendell
could not control his excitement. As he took
the
elavator back down, he had to let Bitsy know!
But
it would seem Bitsy was well ahead, as on the
screen
she posed, wickedly wide and explicit, with a message that read:
"
Can't wait to meet you, and soon! "
V
