That was something I was kind of used to. I’ve hopped around a little, job-wise, but not because I’d ever been fired. Most of my bosses loved me, but I’d been the unfortunate victim of cutbacks, businesses shutting down, and more.
It was kind of why I was on the job hunt at the moment. I was a waitress, but unfortunately it was for a chain place, and recently corporate had demanded that hours be cut. And while I made good tips and all, there’s only so much I can hope for, and rent isn’t exactly optional.
“So you’re still working as a server, is that right?” Rudy asks.
I nod. “Just part time, right now. Three nights during the week and Saturdays.”
“If we can figure things out in a way that works for you, would you still want to do that?” Dustin asks, “Or would you be looking to just replace that job completely?”
I feel a little spark of hope in my chest. “If possible, I’d rather just find one full-time position and replace it completely,” I say, “Although of course I would still want to be able to give them some notice.”
The two of them exchange a look I don’t quite understand, but then they both smile, which seems promising.
They ask me a few more questions about my experience, and it all seems to be going well. I’m having a little bit of a hard time containing my excitement. But then Rudy drops a question that makes me worry that everything is about to fall apart.
“So it said on your resume that you started college at U.T. Austin, but never finished?”
“Um, yes,” I swallow, hard, “Unfortunately something personal came up towards the end of my sophomore year and I had to come home and drop the classes. It affected my scholarship, so I was unable to go back and finish.”
I’m expecting them to ask about the “something personal,” but to my surprise, they both just nod. And Dustin’s face turns deeply sympathetic. “I’m sorry to hear that. My sister Elaine got injured towards the end of her junior year and had to drop her classes while she was recovering from back surgery. She was doing the local college and my folks were helping her pay for it, so once she healed up, she was able to go back, but because of the incomplete classes, they made her jump through all kinds of crazy hoops and shit to finally get her degree.”
“Yeah, I’ve been trying to save up to go to school someplace here and finish eventually,” I admit.
“That’s awesome, some people just give up and never even try to go back,” Dustin says.
“I know there were times I wanted to,” Rudy mutters, shuddering a little, “especially getting my DVM.”
“DVM?” I ask.
“Doctorate of Veterinary Medicine,” he explains.
“Oh, you’re a vet? That’s awesome,” I smile, “Do you guys have any pets I would need to feed or walk or anything? I-if I got the position, that is?”
“You know, this is actually the longest in my life I’ve ever not had a pet,” Rudy admits, “I had a cat who passed away, old age, a while back, but then Brianna came along and I didn’t end up getting another pet.”
“We’ve kind of been talking about getting a dog,” Dustin adds, “Now that Brie’s a little older and we can really start teaching her how to treat animals. We wouldn’t mind getting another cat, but Brie’s mom was allergic and we kind of want to make sure she didn’t pass that down.”
I nod, understanding. “Well, no allergies to worry about here. At least not pet allergies, I do have a mild allergy to bananas.”
“Same here!” Dustin exclaims.
Rudy shakes his head sympathetically. “You poor bastards, missing out.”
“Oh, I didn’t say that stops me,” I admit with a laugh, “I can’t resist a good banana nut muffin, and if I pop a Benadryl quickly enough, I can avoid the worst of the symptoms.”
“Is that what your resume meant by anaphylaxis training?” Rudy jokes.
“No, no!” I exclaim, laughing, “Just because I risk that foolishness on myself occasionally doesn’t mean I don’t actually know better.”
“I have to admit, it’s been enough years since I got to have a banana split that I’m kind of tempted to try your madness,” Dustin says.
“Allergies can get worse over time, so if you really want to attempt it, I suggest you have a spotter,” I glance at Rudy, “And an EpiPen nearby.”
“I’d really rather not have to drive you to the hospital,” Rudy sighs.
Dustin makes a pouty face at him and I stifle a giggle. I hear the sound of the door creaking open behind me and turn to look, startled. “Hel-lo-oooo,” a female voice calls out in a singsong.
“We’re in here, Elaine,” Rudy calls, and after a moment, a blonde woman strides through the door with a slightly groggy-looking toddler walking along at her side, gripping her hand.