The Caregiver

The Interview

Mama always said don't go searching for something that you have no business looking for. So what's the harm in job searching?

I desperately need a job. If you would have asked me a year ago if I would even look twice at a job, I would tell you "why would I stress myself on purpose?".  Not that I still don't believe in that sentiment, but what's life without a bit of excitement?

My sister asked me what's the excitement in watching a fat, slobbery baby, but she wouldn't get it. My fourth interview this week is for a babysitting  job. Typical me would not even fathom being a glorified maid for a baby, but when I saw the amount of zero that was in the pay...chile, my whole opinion shifted. So much so I thought to myself, this has to be one big ass scam.

Despite the shadiness, here I was sitting in a lobby waiting to get interviewed. I looked at the other people who sat around me in the other chairs, most of them were older women or women who resemble Mary Poppins. Then there was this me. I looked to be the one of the youngest there, I wore your most standard red blouse, pencil skirt, and red bottoms. I kept my locs curled even though I could have easily put a wig over them.

One of the issues I ran into quite a bit with interviewing for some of the more "professional" jobs was them acting like having locs was a sin. I did not grow these things for nearly twenty years just to have to change them for a damn job.

Instinctively, I patted my hair, making sure none of the curls got ruined. The woman next to me stared at me for a moment before leaning slightly to my side.

"I like your hair." She said.

I looked her up and down, "Yours is pretty too." I responded. she seemed to be one of the only people my age, but her ensemble was much more classy. She wore a white turtleneck under a black blazer with silver cuffs with a matching black  skirt, under that was stockings and very sleek heels. Her thick curls were done up in a beautiful updo, bringing more attention to her soft features. 

She twisted and turned in her seat, "I'm so nervous. I just quit my job with no backup."

"Why would you do that?" I questioned.

She scratched the back of her head with a shrug, "I was getting fed up with my boss' bullshit. All she did was bitch about everything I did, so I just quit."

I nodded like I understood her experience. In reality, I've never had to work a job. Hell, I don't need to be here either. 

The woman smiled mischievously, "Y'know, I heard that the boss here is young and fine as hell."

This made my ears perk up, I expected the man I could potentially work for to be a kinda older guy who has no time for his kid because he constantly on trips in Europe or something. 

"Hopefully." I simply said, not getting my hopes high about him allegedly being fine or even getting this job. I was turned down other times because I have absolutely no job experience. At this point, I might as well lie.

"My name is Draya by the way." She said with a smile.

"Anastasia." I returned the smile.

The two of us conversed until Draya was next for the interviewer. I gave her a thumbs up as she walked to the door. She was shaking more than a leaf in fall. I waited on my phone, not even trying to rehearse anything like most of the people around me. If I get the job, I get it. If I don't, I don't. 

When Draya came back, she was basically buzzing.

"Do you think you got it?" I asked.

She shook her head with a wave of her hand, "Nah, but the interviewer mentioned a job as a personal chef that needed to be filled after he saw my experience with cooking."