And endless debts and bills to pay...

[christianmedinamusic]

Christian found the ad while searching for gigs. Money was tight and the nest egg from his summer job was looking lean. When he came across the ad looking for an administrative assistant, his eyebrow furrowed. It wasn't the perfect job - but then he saw it was an overnight shift.

What the hell kind of company has an overnight administrative assistant? he thought as he pulled his blazer out of his backpack. He shook it out and frowned at the wrinkle. A T bathroom wasn't the best place to prep for a job interview, but it was cleaner than the gas station.

Chris booked it out of the bathroom after attempting one last time to tame his hair. Shrugging, he shoved his hat back onto his head, hoping that whoever was hiring would think that his impromptu blazer, khaki, and dress shirt interview outfit would think it was quirky and outside the box. He could hear his father's voice in his head tsk-ing him for not bringing his suit up to college with him. Cringing, he shook his head to quell the judgmental Spanglish and checked his phone for the address.

Looking up, Christian realized he was at the place. A shiver traveled up his back and radiated through his body. It was super creepy, but hey, it was a job. The twilight didn't help his nerves and he cleared his throat as he walked up to the front door. Shaking himself all over like he was shaking it out before a performance, Christian rolled his shoulders, shouldered his bag, and knocked.

[Open to G]

Comments

[ghargreaves]

The interviews were starting to wear Gerald down a little, he secretly admitted to himself. He hadn't realised just how little was able to be regarded as 'fact' on the resumes presented - most of his time in his business world had been at a rather different level, the hiring of 'team members' such as were required at GHC more usually dealt with by his managers.

But he had decided to take the much more 'hands on' approach here after what happened, and interviewing was the first step to rebuilding the workforce. So he finished the piece of pie he had afforded himself after the last of the interviews that day, and was returning to the... or rather his... office when he heard the knock at the door. His automatic reaction was to let someone else answer, but of course there was no-one else in the building at that time. So he descended the stairs, saw the shadowy form of the single individual through the frosted glass of the top half of the door, and opened it.

"Yes? Can I help you?" he asked, wondering if it was a client for the mortuary, whose entrance was around the corner.

[christianmedinamusic]

The deep voice coming from the distinguished older man didn't help Christian's nerves any. He shifted his bag back onto his shoulder and cleared his throat. The first words came out in a squeak nevertheless. "I'm Christian Arismendi. I saw the ad for the administrative position for overnights."

He shifted his body between his feet, swaying. "...Can I come in?"

[ghargreaves]

A quick visual summation of the young man had Gerald step back, a hand indicating for the young man to enter. "Certainly, though I have to ask did you submit an application? I was not aware we were expecting any more candidates for today," he explained. "Though the very reason for the ad will give some indication as to why some of the paperwork can go astray."

[christianmedinamusic]

Christian's face fell. Rookie move, Chris. "Um, I have my resume here." Even though he looked like a mess, his resume was printed on really nice card stock. Pulling the folder out as he stepped into the building, Christian opened it to pull the single sheet of ivory out for Gerald to read.

"I work in my father's medical office doing the paperwork during the summer. He's a doctor." He realized that he had basically repeated the same thing and silently cursed. "This is actually my first real interview and I'm pretty sure my father is shaking his head in his office right now just sensing how badly I'm botching this interview."

[ghargreaves]

Gerald took the offered document and, closing the door behind the young man, indicated the stairs. "Come upstairs, my office is the second door on the right," he said as he read over the brief, but well-presented information. "And I will admit I'm pleased your father is shaking his head in his office, not rolling in his grave," Gerald told the young man as he silently added in his head, "or you would perhaps soon be here as a client instead of a prospective employee!" Gerald had found himself having odd thoughts such as these when going through numerous interviews over the last few days, and finding out just how much, or little, people knew about the jobs for which they were applying.

[christianmedinamusic]

Christian started up the stairs. He looked down at his feet and laughed a little at the stark contrast between his worn, but sturdy dress shoes and the well-kept staircase. There were houses like these in New Jersey, but not very many where he was from. There was a certain Addams Family feel to it. He stopped at Gerald's office and waited for the other gentleman to join him before the door was opened.

[ghargreaves]

Gerald spoke as he led the way into his office.

"So you are specifically looking for a nightshift role?" he asked, indicating the chairs opposite his desk, and made his way around behind it. "Are you studying?"

[christianmedinamusic]

Christian fought the urge to gape at the more lavish furnishings. It was the type of library his father would have killed to have. Heck, his mother would have loved the entire house, because of her obsession with Elizabethan and Victorian fashion and decor. He smiled as he pictured her lying on the couch, her feet propped up onto the arm, reading Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters.

He shook his head imperceptibly to jolt him out of the memory when he realized Gerald had asked him a question. "Yes. I'm specifically looking for the night shift because of my class schedule. I'm a night owl, so it would work out well."

He wasn't sure if the chill down his back was due to his nerves or the building itself or whatever. He hoped it was the former. He held the back of the guest chair in front of Gerald's desk and tried not to show how tightly he was gripping it.

[ghargreaves]

With his peripheral vision Gerald continued to take in this unusual candidate's demeanor and body language, noticing briefly the stance, and grip, of the young man on the back of the chair. Without looking directly up, his eyes still trained on the single page document in his hand, he indicated Christian to take his seat as Gerald seated himself and placed the resume on the desk.

He rested his elbows lightly on the desk, fingers interlaced as he looked up and at the young man. "Tell me, Mr Arismendi, what do you know about G. Host & Company? About our work here?" he asked. He was still coming to terms with the fact that so many young people applying for jobs in this era were not even looking a company up on the internet to figure out what the company might do, and he himself had taken time to check what came up when he searched 'G Host Boston'. While it didn't go into great detail the listing certainly gave enough information to indicate they were not only a legitimate business with some satisfied customers, albeit most of whom preferred to remain anonymous, or use a non-de-plume when agreeing to testimonials, but provided enough information to confirm for either the cynical skeptic, the curious questioner, or the desperate potential client just what services were on offer at the company.

"Paranoia? Or perhaps paranormal personifications perplexing you in your own parlour?" was the alliterative allure of the front page, and was followed by even more attempts at catching one's attention. Gerald had read it and sighed, realising it was text that had been lifted from a pamphlet that probably dated back to the late 30s, or even earlier. He did need to have someone look at having that updated.

"And what can you see yourself doing on a 'nightshift' in our facility?"

[christianmedinamusic]

Busted. Christian could feel the sweat bead on his forehead. "I'll be truthful with you. The only information I found on the website had something to do with ghosts. Which confused me because I don't think ghouls are real. At least not the Scooby Doo types. Maybe my abeula hanging out and watching over her family..." Christian stopped when he realized he was rambling.

"So, I guess I'm a little confused as to what actually goes on here. I assumed it was a funeral home. And I assumed I was going to be handling intakes for bodies coming in from the coroner or something."

A thought crossed his mind and he turned white at the thought, stomach lurching. "Please don't tell me I'll be handling bodies."

His eyes widened when he realized he had said that last sentence out loud. The next thought was an expletive, all in capital letters.