The Job Interview
Marc eyed the empty spot, but parking enforcement circled like a vulture sensing his desperation, waiting to swoop in and take whatever remained the moment his broke-ass pulled in.
He’d spent his last two and a quarter to acquire the morning coffee needed to calm his anxiety and provide the jolt of courage he needed to survive a 10:00am job interview; none of which would matter in six minutes.
As he pulled around the block again he could feel his lips curl, as luck would have it the spot was still empty and the pesky meter maid was nowhere in sight.
His right side signals flashed as he pulled past the spot, slipped the stick to reverse and began working the vehicle into the vacant space.
He was forced to slam on the brakes as he watched a convoluted movie scene unfold in his rearview; another car barged into his spot, front-end first, no signals, and horn blaring into the morning air like a divine “fuck you” screaming at him from the heavens.
Marc stepped through the storefront door at 13 minutes past ten, his interrogator, the same monster in high heels who had jumped from the demon vehicle and flipped him the bird stood at the front counter tapping her clipboard in annoyance as she waited for him to arrive.
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