𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭, cobain

two.

          "SO, TELL ME about yourself."

I stared through the woman's anthill of mascara and stirred nervously in my chair. I had managed to land a job interview quickly, and although I was pleasantly surprised, I questioned the professionalism of a job so eager to hire that I'd be seated for an interview before the manager had even glanced at my resume.

The manager, Evelyn, sat across from me and enveloped her hands around a styrofoam cup, the warm aroma of coffee emanating from it. I wondered why she wouldn't simply drink the coffee at Brew Bistro and instead got a to-go cup from elsewhere as she peered fervently at me.

"Do you want me to get you something? Soda? Some food?" she bubbled. "We don't only serve coffee here, don't worry, it's all on me."

"No thanks," I responded politely. Nevertheless, she left and came back with an icy can of Ginger Ale that she slid across the table separating us.

"Alright. Go on, don't be shy."

I sucked in a hearty breath and sat up taller. "Well, my name is Erin Woods and I just moved here a few months ago from Californ—"

"—California!" Evelyn interrupted enthusiastically. "I bet it's much warmer there than it is here."

"Yeah." I pursed my lips.

"Why'd you move?" she asked. She was a kind-looking woman, her face running deep with a horde of wrinkles that looked like a subway map.

"My parents got a divorce," I confessed.

Evelyn stretched her hands across the table to reach for my fingers. "Oh, you poor thing!" She pouted her lips. It appeared to me as pity. "It's a much different time now than when I was growing up back in the '50s. Back then, didn't matter if you were getting beaten black and blue by your husband, you just didn't get a divorce. My God, I pray for this generation."

I gently released my hands from her cold grasp. "Right." I racked my mind for more fuel to answer her original question. "So, anyway, I'm twenty years old and I'm starting my junior year at UW in September. I worked at a movie theater my freshman and sophomore year of high school, then I worked at a restaurant for the rest of school and later on into college."

"Little bit of work experience, great," Evelyn remarked under her breath as she transcribed my words onto a napkin. She looked up at me, smiling. "Believe it or not, not a lot of people your age have that." I sheepishly nodded in response and caught Ash's glaring eye from across the room. He didn't trust me to take his car to Brew Bistro, so he made a point of driving me himself.

"So," she started, "why do you think you're a good candidate for this job?"

"Like you said, I have some experience under my belt. I have excellent skills dealing with customers from my previous jobs, I'm a good team player, good leadership skills."

"Pretty girl, too," she stated. "Surely that wouldn't hurt to get some customers in here every once in a while."

I knitted my eyebrows. "I'm sorry, wha—"

"—Anyway, Anna—"

"—Erin," I corrected her, and I wondered if she could sense my annoyance.

"Erin. Right. In any case, you seem like a good fit for this position."

"You don't want to ask me any more questions?" I cocked my head to the side, staring at her in awe.

Evelyn plopped her pen onto the table with a subtle clunk! and beamed. "Oh, yes. We aren't one of those places that need to pick your brain and ask you a million useless questions. Actions speak louder than words, we'd like to see how you are on the job instead of just sitting here talking about it."