I remember the first time I saw her. She was applying for a job at 'Raspberry Tea'. The restaurant has a dress code, anyone wearing jeans or sweats suits are not allowed on the grounds. All the workers wear black dress pants, females can wear black skirts and white dress shirts – cooks receive their jackets, aprons, and a hat from the restaurant. Unfortunately, she showed up wearing a dress shirt and jeans. After the receptionist explained this rule to her, disappointment washed over her face. She didn't cry, she stood taller.
Determination replaced the disappointment the gears of her mind we're turning she was trying to come up with a solution.
"You are fifteen minutes early. Do you have a change of clothes in your car?" Barbara, the receptionist, I asked.
"I didn't." My heart broke for her. For the first time to Jackson, she showed in the way her face her shoulders hunched forward.
Her stance reminded me of the bird with a broken wing, trying, with all his might to fly.
"Well... you can reschedule your appointment," suggested Barbara.
It would be the kiss of death to miss this appointment. They had several applicants scheduled to fill the position, by the time her second appointment rolled around the position would be filled.
"Sur..." she began before being interrupted.
"No, thanks!" The woman sitting behind her said as she rose up out of the chair. The girl turned to face her wearing a questioning expression.
"Where is your bathroom?" She held her friend's elbow, waiting for Barbara's direction.
"Down the hall and it's on the left." Barbara pointed out she gave directions.
"Follow me," her companion lead her down the hallway to the bathroom, where they both entered.
After they walked away from the receptionist desk, I approached Barbara and handed her the cards I was caring with the customers' information on it.
Hungry, I decided to stop in the kitchen to say hello to my friends and coworkers, while seeing what was on the menu for the staff meal.
As I was passing the entrance to the bathroom, she flew out of the ladies room wearing her companions' outfit. Hurriedly, she talked her shirt in.
"Pardon me," I said with a smile.
"My fault. I was rushing and not paying attention to where I was going."
Her voice was soft, pure and musical.
"Do I go right to get back to the receptionist?"
She is a beauty. Her long chocolate brown hair home past her shoulders.
"Yes," but first I think you should report me a shirt.
What? Even her pills of expression was cute.
"Your top," I pointed to the mismatch button and buttons.
"Oh!" She sighed, her face flushing in embarrassment.
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"Follow me and I'll lead you back."
"Thank you! Do you work here?" She asked, reporting her shirt.
"I do. I have several positions. Are usually go where I am needed," I answer proudly.
"What are the jobs?" She continued. I was pleased she was curious, it showed some interest.
"I help with security, sometimes I work the gate you drove through to get into the grounds of 'Raspberry Tea'. I am also the van driver for the associates, I pick the workers up at the train station to start their shifts and after we close I drive them home. On our busiest nights, I assist with valet parking."
