Business Man

Chp 1

RING RING!! "Ugh.." I grunt annoyed, going to turn off my alarm clock that seems a bit too far out of reach. I really really hate Monday mornings. I begrudgingly get out of bed with the clank of my sore bones dragging behind me. I go to get my best clothing on, which consists of a slightly coffee stained white button up, a royal blue vest my father had gotten me the night before just for today, black khakis with rolled up bottoms since they were too long, and my signature blue jacket, though a bit worn throughout the years. Everything felt way too tight, especially for being put on a pile of bones. My jacket felt nice though, it was a constant comfort for me that never seemed to feign.

Today was the day, my interview at the biggest company in the world, Swamp inc. To be honest, I have no clue how I got this interview. I am by far the laziest sack of bones this world has to offer, I haven't had a job since...never. I barely even passed high school with no way I would ever get to college. I remember my mother asking me what I had to put in my portfolio and I asked her what a portfolio was. I think my mother and father, with their great business skills and high social status, somehow were able to fake my portfolio and make me sound like I had gone to every college in all of the state. So maybe that's how I got an interview with such a successful businessman, Shreck.

"Honey! I made your favorite! French toast and scrambled eggs!" Mom sweetly yells from the kitchen. I rolled my eyes with how she said it as if I was still five and it was my first day of school. Trudging myself to the kitchen with my still sleepy posture, i soon find myself sitting at the deep brown dining table with my father doing the sunday sudoku puzzle even though its monday, he always waits tile monday to do them since it "makes up for the monday morning mood with sudoku." The smell of eggs and french toast wavered its way through the kitchen like a snake slithering its way on sand. It really was my favorite, it had been since I was eight. A plate of said breakfast was set down in front of me with a, "looking sharp kiddo", from my father. "Thanks, dad."

"Be safe!" Mom exclaims, "and make sure to make eye contact, and say 'please' and 'thank you'. Oh! And don't-" "talk about politics, don't talk about politics, kid." My father cuts mom off with. "Heh, thanks dad" I replied, relieved he was able to get mom to stop before I was 5 hours late from her advice. I get on my bike and start riding to my interview with my parents good lucks and goodbyes trailing behind me.