Magdalena: Mittelmont

Magdalena entered a low, rambling white building. It was as institutional on the inside as it was on the outside. It could have been a school or a medical clinic, except for the pairs of skis leaning up against the walls at random intervals.

Magdalena peered around feeling lost, not sure where to go or whom to look for. Much to her relief, a slender, middle-aged woman glided out from a side door to greet her. She wore a white knit pantsuit; the jacket had large white plastic buttons down the front. Her high-heeled white leather ankle boots had a narrow trim of real fur. Her platinum blond hair was meticulously styled and sprayed into place. All of her jewelry was white gold and extremely conservative.

“Why, hello! Welcome to Mittelmont Lodge. My name is Amanda Wynn. Please call me Amanda.” She shook Magdalena’s hand warmly, holding on until Magdalena let go.

“I’m Maggie Wegian. I’m so pleased to meet you. I learned you were opening a ski resort here, and I wondered if you could use some help.”

“My, such initiative! I’m delighted to meet you, Maggie. We have openings for ski instructors, custodial staff, and servers at our snack bar. All of our positions coordinating ski rentals and lift tickets for our guests have already been filled.”

Suddenly Magdalena noticed there were no snowboards, but she continued the conversation without mentioning it. “Oh, I have waitressing experience! I worked in a family restaurant, promoting a comfortable and welcoming atmosphere!”

“That’s just wonderful. Why don’t I find you an application? Here, let me show you to the employee kitchen.” Amanda placed her hand behind Magdalena’s elbow and guided her through an unmarked white door into a small room containing a breakfast table with three chairs, a large beige refrigerator, and a sink and countertop with a microwave. Amanda stepped out, and Magdalena took a seat at the breakfast table and started reading the brochure sitting on it, advertising “The Midwest’s Most Challenging Slopes” and “Highest Quality Rescue Services.”

A tall, wiry, dark-haired man with a weathered face entered. “Hello, my name’s John, you must be new here,” he said, looking her over in a manner that displayed a little too much interest.

“I’m Maggie. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you! Are you here to help with the clean-up?”

“Ah, no, I’m applying to work at the snack bar.”

“Oh. Well.” He paused briefly. “Good luck!” He pulled a Pepsi and a ham sandwich from the refrigerator. During the lull in the conversation, Amanda popped in.

“Oh, hello, John.”

“Hello, Amanda. I was just taking my lunch break.”

“That’s fine,” she said, and turning away from him, went on, “Maggie, dear, here is an employment application for you. Why don’t you just fill this out, and I’ll come back in a few minutes to talk with you about what you might like to do for us.”

“Thank you so much, Amanda!”

“Oh, thank you.” She turned her head and added in a stiffer tone, “I’ll see you soon, John.” John nodded, and Amanda glided out.

Magdalena began to write out her employment application, but as she wrote, John still leaned against the countertop, crossing his long legs, slowly and thoughtfully eating his ham sandwich, and watching her intently. She could tell that he badly wanted to make conversation. She preferred to write her job application, but she felt rude about ignoring him. She decided to acknowledge him with a polite question that should elicit a short response, and one that would tell her a little about Mittelmont. She would not use his name, not wanting to encourage any feelings of intimacy. “What do you do here?”

John looked relieved, and tumbled immediately into slightly halting but gregarious speech. “I do the grounds work here. I plant gardens in summer. In winter I shovel snow, and I’m gonna run the snow machine this winter! I think that’s funny, I add snow in some places and take it away others. I pretty much do anything that needs doing. I cleaned the toilets yesterday and mopped the floors. I really like working here. I only work here part time. I’d like to work more hours, but I have to be in town. I’m being charged in a court case. I didn’t do nothing, but I have to stay in town a lot until the case is over. I got me a lawyer. It’s my ex got me into this. We were at this bar drinking, and she yelled at me, and I yelled at her, and now she says I abused her. But I didn’t. I’m innocent. I got witnesses. She’s just mad at me ’cause we’re not going out no more. So I’m gonna get through this court case, and then I can come work here full time.”

Magdalena tried to appear composed. She nodded sagely and continued writing out her past job experience. After a while she said soothingly, “I’m sure they’ll clear everything up for you.”

“Yeah, it’s just such a pain in my ass, excuse me, it’s just a pain. I can’t work as much as I want, and I have to pay this lawyer, and I hate to be cooped up in one town. Wish I hadn’t dated that b--, uh, that awful woman.”

Magdalena continued to write. She was almost finished. “Well, breakups are painful.”

“Sure are. Well, it was nice talking with you, I guess I’d better go, got, um, snow equipment to fix.”

“Bye! Maybe I’ll see you around.”

John finally left, and Magdalena breathed a sigh of relief. She finished her employment application and moved on to the proofreading. Magdalena was very careful to proofread because she had heard she could lose a job because of a single misplaced comma. She hoped her interviewer wouldn’t think that a properly placed comma was actually wrong. She tried to avoid commas.