Magdalena: The Interview

Magdalena proofread her application twice, stood up, paced the kitchen a few times, examined the contents of the refrigerator — a six-pack of water bottles with five left in it, two Pepsis, three different fruit juices, and a couple of yogurts not quite old enough to have value as antiques — ran her fingers over the countertop, gathered herself, and sat down again. She stared fixedly at the wall and took deep, slow breaths, willing herself into displaying composure.

She ran through potential interview questions in her head. What kind of supervisory experience do you have? Who was your least favorite boss, and why? How have you resolved a conflict turning it into a win-win situation, so that everything turned out better for all parties? Describe your organizational strategies. What would your references say about you if we called them? If an employee told you she defrauded the company out of 15 minutes’ pay, what would you do?

Eventually Amanda stretched her long, slender neck through the door frame. “All set, dear?”

“Yes, ma’am, I have everything here.”

“Wonderful, but please, just Amanda, not ma’am,” replied the willowy woman as she smoothly picked up Magdalena’s completed application with her sinuous white arm. She drew the papers to her and glanced through them. “You were in a Circle of the Arts? I love circles.”

“Oh, yes, we would sit in a circle and discuss our projects, and sometimes we’d take trips to Chicapolis...”

“Round trips?”

“Ah, yes....round trips.” Magdalena noticed that Amanda’s gold earrings were hoops.

“How lovely. And can you provide me with proof that you are authorized to work in the United States, and a copy of your diploma or transcript to verify your credentials?”

“Yes, I don’t have them with me, but I can bring them whenever you’d like! My references will verify my work history, too.”

“Oh, there’s no need to speak with your references. I trust you. Why don’t you start on Monday?”

“Monday? Yes! Yes, I’d love to! Um, what will I be doing?”

“Well, of course, you will work at our snack bar. I’d like you to be the facilitator, making sure there are no sharp edges to the services we provide for our guests. You know, serve as many round items as possible.”

“You mean like bagels?”

“Bagels! What a wonderful idea! I never thought of serving bagels! Yes, you see you are perfect for this role in our enterprise. I am never wrong. You will come in on Monday at 8 a.m. I will pay you ten dollars an hour. It is a nice, round number.”

“Th-thank you!” stammered Magdalena. “But I have an afternoon job, and I’ll have to give them two weeks’ notice before I can work here all day. I’m sorry, I’d like to come on full time right now, but I have an obligation...”

“Hm, that is a problem, but I believe we can work around it. I appreciate your candor. You will work every morning and also on weekends until you are free to adhere to a regular schedule of weekdays and alternate weekends. However, you will still begin work on Monday morning. We will not be ready for you tomorrow.”

“That’s wonderful! Thank you so much!” Magdalena tripped over her own tongue in her gratitude.

“You are welcome, my dear. I am willing to sacrifice a little to have you on board. An innovative mind like yours will do wonders for our snack bar. Bagels!” Amanda glided swiftly from the room.

Magdalena stared numbly at the table, picked herself up, and walked mechanically out of the building, meeting no one. Well, she thought, she had been through stranger interviews than that without getting hired. At least this one ended in a job offer. How bad could it be?

The fog lifted as she drove down from Mittelmont, but she continued to feel dazed. She drove along the county road through the fields, over the vivid purple bridge painted by the local contractor who believed bridges should never blend into the background, past a couple of gas stations, and eventually into her own narrow, pitted driveway.

She entered her house, stood stock still for a moment, then screamed, jumped up and down, and ran around from room to room telling her plants how excited she was. She figured that plants respond well to happiness, so maybe this would be good for their health. She hoped that her happiness would continue, and her plants would grow like gangbusters and take over the place.

The first order of business was a thank-you note, and Magdalena dug out her card stock. She looked at it for a moment, then painted a series of interlocking circles in pastel colors on one of the cards and set it aside to dry. What the heck, she painted a second card too, so she could choose the best one.

She glanced over at her Wandering Jew. He looked bigger.

The weekend passed quickly after that, and the hemlock began to look as if it was considering a move against Socrates in the near future.