Jar of Change

            Frank's heart was racing and his hands were sweaty. He tried rubbing them on his pants but knew it would not help.  It was so damn hot.  And the air conditioning in his car had stopped working years ago.  The orange needle of the gas gauge hovered just above the Empty line and the little gas-pump shaped light was on beside it.  He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to slow down his heart and calm his nerves.  His belt felt tight around his waist and his shoes were awkward on his feet.  This was only the second time he had worn them.

            “Make your own way with Festiva Cruise Lines,” the ad on the radio played through nearly muted speakers.  Frank rubbed his head.  He was just past his thirtieth birthday and he could see his hairline receding in the rearview mirror. 

            “Jesus, Frank.  Get it together,” he implored himself.  This was not the time for a loss of confidence. 
            He thought he looked rather sharp in his blue shirtsleeves and grey slacks.  The slacks he had purchased at JC Penney about three years before; but with his new belt and shoes, the pants looked brand new.  He had spent extra time on the crease this morning while ironing.  Now the heat was making him sweat through his shirt and causing his pants to wrinkle.  He tried to push those petty thoughts from his mind and focus on the task at hand.  There was nothing he could do about the heat; his air conditioning was broken.  

He leaned forward in his seat to look again in the rearview.  Everything seemed in order; he was as presentable as he was going to be. 

“Go get it, man!” he spoke to the man in the mirror, trying to bolster his confidence.  In a burst of motion he turned off the key and stepped out of the car.  Straightening his belt he stepped toward the grey building quickly, as if he knew that he only had moments of positive energy of which to make use.  The day was hot and the sun made a bead of sweat sizzle down his forehead. He wiped the drop of sweat with the back of his hand being careful not to moisten his sleeve.

As he reached the glass double doors, Frank could see himself in the reflection walking up, and again, everything seemed in order.  There was no toilet paper trailing from his shoe or anything like that.  At the double door, he paused for just a moment before pulling the left door open and stepping inside.

The air-conditioning in the building engulfed him the moment the door closed behind him.  The cool air felt amazing.  It had been a long and hot drive down to this place.  The sweat on his forehead cooled and dried-up almost instantly.  Frank surveyed his surroundings and noticed that the people moved around the refreshing air of the building with purpose.

In front of him, a pretty lady in a fashionably loose-fitting ivory colored blouse and tight black business skirt that accented her long legs stepped behind the sleek reception desk with a small stack of loose papers in her hand.  Behind the desk, glass walls and doors showed an office in motion.  The workers appeared confident and intelligent.  He didn’t notice any dullards or slobs and everyone appeared to be on a driven mission.

“Can I help you, sir?” the receptionist asked in a friendly but businesslike tone as she set the papers down in front of her and sat in the ergonomic chair.

“Hello, how are you?” Frank responded.  “Yes you can.”

“I’m fine thank you,” she replied with a smile, “how may I help you?”

“I would like to talk to someone about a job,” Frank stated.

“Did you have an appointment?”

“Uh, no…I have this résumé,” he stammered.

“Okay,” she smiled, “I’ll take that down to Noreen.  If you would like to have a seat someone will be with you shortly.” 

Frank handed her the résumé and tried to present himself well while she stood and turned toward the buzzing office.  As she stepped through the glass doors Frank turned and strode to the futuristic plastic chairs positioned beside the front door. 

He sat and tried his best to look smart.  In a few minutes, the pretty receptionist returned and took her seat.  She smiled at him as she sat down and returned to her work.  There was traffic going into and out of the building and Frank tried to nod to each passing employee in the sternly businesslike manner he had seen his father use while making business deals down at the marina.  He tried to keep his posture and even crossed his legs, holding his knee in his woven fingers.  Five minutes went by like this and then fifteen and Frank continued to sit up straight in his chair and nod to each person whose eye he caught.  His butt was starting to hurt.  He wanted to slouch.

After twenty minutes, a woman in her mid-thirties came out from behind the glass doors and walked toward Frank.  She was holding his résumé in her hands and approached him with a smile. 

Frank smiled as broadly and charmingly as he could and stood up.  He thrust out his hand.  “Hello, Frank Dickens,” he stated in a deep businesslike voice as she accepted his handshake.

“Noreen Roberts, nice to meet you.”

Frank took a half-step toward the glass doors from which she had come, expecting to be led to her office so they could talk.  But then the woman sat down beside the chair on which Frank had been seated for the previous twenty minutes.  Frank quickly stepped back and sat down in his chair, the woman smiled warmly at him and looked down at his résumé.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get out here,” she apologized as she looked up, “I was on a very important phone call.”

“No problem,” Frank responded with a friendly smile, “I didn’t even notice.”  He felt like he was presenting himself well.  He was sure that if he made a good impression he would be well on his way to getting the job.  He smiled cordially and looked her in the eyes like his father had taught him.

“I just felt bad,” she said looking down at his résumé, “because I assume you are looking for our warehouse and they have their own Human Resource department.”

Frank was taken aback. “Uh, no ma’am,” he felt his cheeks turning red, “I was applying for a job in the office, maybe sales.”  His confidence was draining like a pool with a ruptured lining.

Now she was the one who was surprised.  “Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed,” she paused for a few seconds to gather her thoughts.  “Okay then, let me see…” she looked down at his resume.  “Do you have a college degree?”

“No ma’am, but I received straight A’s for all of high school,” he had expected this to be brought up and thought he could talk his way through it.  But, he hadn’t expected to have to make his pitch in the busy lobby of the building.  He stammered a little.  He shifted uncomfortably. 

The pretty receptionist was looking over at him.  He thought he saw pity in her face as his eyes caught hers for a split-second.  He was starting to sweat again despite the cool air-conditioning.  This wasn’t how he expected this to go.  Why wasn’t he talking to Noreen in her office?

“Okay,” Noreen said slowly, “Well, I’ll hang on to this and we’ll give you a call if we want you to come in for an interview,” she smiled cordially and stood up.

Frank stood up stiffly.  Was it over already?  He stood silently for a second, not knowing what to say, then extended his hand.  “Thank you, I look forward to hearing from you,” he said with as much feigned pep in his voice as he could muster.  He knew they would never call, but that was all he could think to say.  She was already walking back toward the glass doors before he even finished his sentence.  It all went so fast.         

Frank avoided eye contact with the pretty receptionist as he stepped to the exit.  He was so embarrassed.  He felt like a damn fool.  He hung his head and his shoulders slumped as he pushed the heavy glass door.  The stiflingly hot and muggy air hit him in the face like a hammer the second he stepped outside.  The air was thick and uncomfortable.  It stuck in his throat.  He tried to muster up his pride as he shuffled to his car.  He tried to walk with his chin held high, but it was nearly impossible.  He wanted to run.

When Frank got back to his car, he jumped in quickly and turned the key.  The interior of the car felt like the surface of the sun and he sweat profusely through his shirt.  The vents pushed out hotter air.  He drove out of the parking lot rapidly, trying to flee from his humiliation.  His shirt was itching his neck and the open windows did little to cool him down. 

He looked down at the gas gauge and his shoulders slumped further.  He knew he had no money in his pocket.  He had no money anywhere.  His shirt clung to his back, his shoes felt awkward.  A mile down the road he pulled into a gas station and turned off the engine.  He sat in the seat for a moment looking straight ahead.  He blinked and gripped the steering wheel.  After a long moment he looked down at a handful of coins in a jar in the console of his car.  He picked up the jar and started fishing quarters out with one finger.  He put the quarters in his lap on his grey dress-slacks.  His eyes welled for a second as he fished for change. 

He pumped four dollars and seventy-five cents worth of gas into his car and walked into the station to pay.  He didn’t meet the eyes of any of the people he passed on the way in.  His belt felt too tight.  He wished he didn’t have these uncomfortable clothes on.  He wanted to run away from the feeling he had, but that was impossible.  The feeling clung to him like a straightjacket.  His chest felt like someone was sitting on it.  When his turn came, he handed the cashier the sweaty stack of coins without meeting his eyes and turned to flee out to his car.

Frank stepped into his boiling car and started the engine.  He held the steering wheel and stared straight forward.  He glanced down at the blue shirt and grey slacks he was wearing then over to the manila folder that had previously held his résumé.  The little orange gas pump next to his gas gauge was still on.  The vents blew out hot air.  He stared forward and tried to keep from crying.  With a sweaty hand he put the car into drive and the few remaining coins in the jar of change rattled as the car lurched forward and rolled away from the gas pump.  

THE END