I wrote this for a school assignment. I had to try imitating JD Salinger’s style in The Catcher in the Rye. I wonder how I did.
Flop
Rod Tanzol
I had a job interview last week. I’ve always hated interviews. I much rather learn about another person by having deep meaningful conversations. It kills me when people, especially big companies, think that they can learn everything about a person by reading a piece of paper and asking a guy a few stupid questions. I’m much better than anyone who works for a stinking company because I talk with people. I don’t talk to them and demand answers. I let the truth reveal itself. I’m a much better person because I don’t pry. However, people who work for big companies have paychecks and money. I needed money. That’s why I want to talk about my interview.
The day before the interview, I had a deep conversation with my best friend Julie. We were drinking on her aunt’s porch. We had both just turned twenty-one, but we had been doing this for a few years now. It was always irksome when someone would chastise us for drinking illegally before that. Everyone who yelled at us was a hypocrite. When Julie and I were twenty, what right did people have to shit us with the law when they themselves were legal at eighteen? It killed me. That day we were talking about tattoos.
Julie said, “I wish I had the cash to get another tattoo, Zach. I want one so badly!”
I agreed, “I wish I could get another one right now, too. I have the money, but I need it to buy a suit for my interview tomorrow.” I forgot to mention that I got a tattoo the week before. I got a tribal band around my left arm. I hated people who judge you poorly because you made a long-term commitment to a piece of art. It killed me. They’re just jealous. I need to conform to this world though if I want to go anywhere in it, so I got something that wasn’t ostentatious.
We sighed in disappointment. She shrugged her shoulders and bid me farewell, “Good luck with that tomorrow, Terrison.” Our words were so heavy that little need to be said. I finished my beer and went to my dad’s house to see if I could sleep there that night.
My dad lived with my two younger brothers. He was just a few blocks away from where I was. I didn’t want to feel committed to my family or anything for that matter. I simply stayed away. I wasn’t really sure if they wanted me there anyway. In the few moments that it took me to get there, I thought about how much I resented my dad. He would always go out with some floozy in his Beamer, zipping around at high speeds trying to impress her. He was immature and irresponsible. He’d always leave me to take care of my little brothers. We were all older now, but I still had to keep tabs on my brothers when I was around. My dad would leave, and say it’s what mom would want. Just because he wooed my mother by doing that shit didn’t meant that he could find her replacement by repeating that shit. She hated herself, hence her permanent departure. She always resented her life. It hurt when she jumped off that bridge, but I learned to deal with it. I’d always occupy myself with new hobbies and jobs. Since she died, I‘ve tried everything. I hated those types who mourned indefinitely. I had no reason to waste time mourning like them. It killed me. I don’t think she’d want her kids to have a step-mom as or more naïve than herself. I’m certain of it. My dad didn’t care about her wishes or my brothers. He just cared about himself. I resented my father because he wouldn’t grow up.
I arrived at his door. I rang the doorbell. No one answered. I didn’t have a key. The most irresponsible man in the world, my dad, thought he would teach me responsibility by kicking me out of the house. I’d go inside if I had one. I had to wait for someone to answer the door. I hoped it wasn’t my father. I waited until my patience could no longer stand it. I knocked on the door to get my brothers’ attention. I knew they were home because I could hear the television. I’d have called them on my cellphone if I'd paid my bill. The bills were outrageous, and I couldn’t pay them. Pre-pay phones were too costly the way I used them, but I was afraid to commit to a two-year contract. Now I have a phone, but no service. Phone companies were all thieves. It killed me. I banged on the front door. Footsteps were the house’s response to my action.
The older of my two brothers answered the door. I said, “Hey Tyler, is dad home?”
H answered, “No, he ain’t. Waddaya want?” I stared him down. He rescinded his rough attitude. He motioned for me to come inside. I went into the living room. My other brother was playing videogames. I went to my old bedroom and looked for a shirt and tie. I had those shitty items at least, but I needed a jacket and pants. I laid them on my bed. There weren’t any wrinkles, so I hung them up so I could get them easily tomorrow. I didn’t really miss this place at all. I’d be a sap if I did. I’m much better than some sappy flit. I returned to the living room. Tyler and Cody treated me as if I had never left. There was no reason for them to feel any shame or longing. I was their brother, and that was all.
My dad came home. He didn’t know that I was home. I should have called him and warned him, but I didn’t. He was upset to see me. I could tell it in the phoniness of his voice. He lied, “Zach, it’s great to see you.” I returned the same lie to him. I hated liars. They killed me.
I worked up the courage to swallow my pride and murder my dignity. I tried to ask him a favor, but he interrupted me. I missed my chance to ask. I murdered my soul for nothing. It was torture. He stated insinuatingly, “I seen yous guys down the shore.” I had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe I was too drunk to remember. He saw the clueless look on my face. He detailed, “I saw you, Julie, her brother, and your other friend.”
I remembered. I asked him, “Bruce, why didn’t you approach us?” I never called him dad to his face. I used it in conversation with others for convenience’s sake. I used his real name when I talked to him. I didn’t respect him enough to give him a title of power and authority over me.
He didn’t answer me. Instead, he picked up where he cut me off. “Waddaya need, Zach?”
I died on the inside again. I told him bluntly, “I have a job interview tomorrow. Can sleep here tonight so I can wash-up in the morning?”
He nodded his head yes, but he wanted more information from me. He asked, “What type of job is it? I’m surprised you could get anything without a degree.” I ignored his ignorance of my abilities. I didn’t want to speak to him, but I guessed that I owed him answers since he was letting me sleep home for once.
“It’s a public relations job, Bruce. If I get the job, I’ll basically be put to work bullshitting bios for the higher-ups and maintaining Facebook pages for them.”
“What’s it pay, Zach?”
“Twice minimum wage.”
He seemed to approve, but then he tried to make himself feel bigger. He had no right to comment. He was living off my mother’s money, social security, disability, and his railroad pension. He didn’t work anymore. He barked at me, “You should join the air force, like I did in the seventies. ‘Nam built me some character. I got a job with Port Authority after that. Besides, the government takes good care of its soldiers now. Go make Iraqistan into a friggen parking lot. Make me proud.” Little did he know that I had already talked to an air force recruiter a few weeks ago. Although, I was rejected because they found out that I used to be on Xanex. It was after my mother died, for fuck’s sake. Who needs them? I’m better off here. I don’t need to be blown to pieces by some angry extremist.
I humored him, “Maybe I will.” He resumed with his normal life. He said that he’d leave the door unlocked for me, and I went on my merry way. I had to go to my ex-girlfriend’s house to get my good dress shoes. Her name was Fae. I lived with her and her family after my dad kicked me out. They were some of the most stressful people in the world. They were always busting my chops about the money I owed them, or my degree I never finished, or my countless hobbies. I left most of my belongings there. I’m surprised that she kept my stuff for me. It was probably just a ploy so she’d have a way to lure me back and yell at me some more. I broke up with her because she was always aggressive and demanding. She expected me to have a plan for my entire life and to be trying to do something meaningful with my life by now. She wanted me to be something. If it weren’t for her, I would have never finished high school. She pushed me a lot, but I think she pushed me too much. I didn’t want to see her, but I had to.
I rang her doorbell. Her brother let me inside. He wanted to say something to me, but if his sister heard him talking to me, all hell would break loose. Fae greeted me with her usual kindness, “What do you want, shit-face?”
“I need my shoes. May I get them, please?”
Her brother retrieved the shoes. She bitched, “Are they for your interview tomorrow?”
“Yes,” I answered and nodded. Julie probably told her. I was afraid to pry. Worse, I was afraid of her. She was about to explode. Her brother gave her my shoes. He ran away, seemingly apologetically. Fae threw the left shoe at me. It hit me. It hurt like hell, but I took it without reaction. I let her have her way.
She screamed, “Mr. Ambitious wants to start something new. Mr. Ambitious is finally going to become Mr. Successful and pay back the tens of thousands of dollars in student loans my family cosigned for him. Mr. Ambitious is going to make up for being such a quitter and fucking loser. Mr. Ambitious is going to become Mr. Something. Oh, wait! I’m fooling myself. Mr. Ambitious is going nowhere. Take your shoes, and don’t come back until you’re worthy of my respect!” She threw the other shoe at me. She hit my friggen chest. I was winded.
I had no idea what she was talking about. I was ambitious. I started my fine arts degree, but then I had a change of heart and started a degree in computer engineering. Although, I couldn’t take the stress. So, I stopped going to school. Back in high school, I started jujitsu classes, but I gave up on it before I got my next belt. It was such a useless hobby. I joined the electricians union, but I quit because I spent all my money doing stupid shit. I had to sell my tools to get out of trouble. That was stupid of me. I couldn’t afford my union dues or even work anymore. I didn’t like the work even, but I knew it was a necessary evil. I really just wanted to find a quick fix for everything. I got a job freelancing for a magazine, but I stopped because I didn’t care for the deadlines. The pay wasn’t enough either. I need to have a larger portfolio to earn a decent living. I didn’t want to wait forever to see the benefits. I had ambition, but life was just stressful. I’m more ambitious than most people are. I’m the most ambitious guy I know! I’ve always tried new things. Others just settled into comfortable lives with no ambition to do anything else. They became prostitutes and sellout their ambition for stability and comfort. It killed me.
I gathered my shoes. I said flatly, “I love you too.” Then, I went on my way. I heard a loud screech once I was on the street. I’d show her. I’d stick with this job and finally pay off my debts.
I remember dropping my shoes off at home and then bumming off a ride from Julie’s brother. He was going to the mall. I thought that I’d get a decent suit there. I first tried my luck at Penny’s. I hadn’t planned it, but there was a sale on men’s suits at the department store. Maybe this was a sign. I always followed signs. Whom was I kidding? If I headed any signs or warnings, I would have realized that my mother was going to kill herself or maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation. I found a black suit on sale. It fit me perfectly. I returned home. I had everything I needed.
I slept well that night. I showered in the morning, I shave, and I got dressed. I left the tags on my new suit, but tucked them into the sleeve. I wasn’t certain if I’d be keeping it forever. I hated being committed to one thing. Bruce commented that I looked as sharp as sniper. My brothers didn’t say anything. Bruce offered to take me. I declined. It was quicker for me to take the Path trains into the city. Besides, I didn’t want to become further indebted to that man.
I left home and got to my destination just in time. I had high hopes for my interview. I was in the lobby when reality sank in. I saw countless employees enter the lobby and I realized that they were what I hated. They were deceitful liars, hypocrites, and prostitutes. None of them looked truly happy. They just forced smiles onto their faces so they could earn their paychecks with no questions asked. I knew that this was not going to be the job for me. I didn’t care that I need the job and the money. I reasoned that I’d find another job eventually. I ran out of that office building quickly. I didn’t want to go home just yet, and I wanted to do something meaningful and productive with my day. I remembered seeing a tattoo parlor on my way to the office building from the Path station. I went there.
Inside, the tattoo artist greeted me. I recognized him. I had a studio art class with him when I was in college. He remembered me as well and asked how life was. I told him that I had nothing going for me. He said that his gig in the tattoo parlor was the only thing he had going for him. I really didn’t care though. I was just trying to be polite. After the small talk, we shifted to business. He asked, “What can I do for ya?”
I responded, “I’m not sure. I want a tattoo, but I don’t have enough cash.”
“Well, Terrison, I’m willing to trade,” he said. I contemplated offering my new suit, but then he stated, “I like your watch.” I looked at my wrist. I didn’t even realize that I was wearing one. I had no attachment to it. Now that I knew I had it, I didn’t want to be committed to it either. I gave it to him. He really liked it. We bullshitted about what type of tattoo I should get. I settled for something classic that I could hide. An hour later, I had a heart tattoo with a banner across it that read mom. It was on the left side of my ribcage. I said goodbye, and he gave me his business card. He said to check in once in a while.
I had enough money to get home. When I got home, I got a bag and a change of clothes. I left my suit in my old closet for safekeeping. I didn’t want to be in Bruce’s house much longer. Before I left, I used the house phone and I called Julie’s cell phone. Her brother picked up. I asked if he wanted to hang with me at his apartment. He knew I was looking for a couch to call a bed. He agreed though. Julie was there too. We all drank some beers. They asked me how the interview went. I was ashamed. I lied and said that I wasn’t qualified. I went to sleep that night not caring about what would do the next day. It didn’t really matter anyway.
