"Finally more Manhattan Newsies!" - Youse right now
VeronicaWeasley - DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN! THAT'S THE LONGEST REVIEW I'VE EVER SEEN! THANK YOU SO GODDAMN MUCH FOR THAT!
You're very smart for figuring that one out.
Our braincells are super powerful, and they say that the twins are not morning people.
THE BEST SQUAD!
It's the boy and the girl! Woot woot! Feel very welcome to pretend they're both girls, although that might get... difficult... later on.
Same. "Not fun" is basically my catchphrase now.
OH MY GOD, THE DUMBASS JAR IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA! THEY NEED THAT!
ROMEO STRUCK GOLD!
Huffelpufdraws - Yay for Specs! And yay for cakes and baking cakes!
Please do include the sandwich thing in a oneshot. I hereby welcome you to use any and all of my headcanons in your drawings/stories/whatever else there is.
Sniper's judgment of Smalls can't really be trusted, because she could burn down a building, and he'd be like "aww"
THANK YOU JONNAAAAAAAAAA!
Thursday, November 15th, 2012, 1:15 PM
Albert rushed across the apartment for the seventh time in the last ten minutes. This time it was his wallet he'd forgotten in his bedroom. Wishing to not have to run back and forth any more, he stayed in the room, looking around for any other thing he might have needed to bring. Deciding there was nothing, he hurriedly led his steps back out. He stopped to look in the hall mirror and fix some last minute things. If he wanted to get this job, he'd have to look presentable, but not too over the top. He'd never put this much thought into an outfit, or really anything to be honest. But he desperately needed to start earning his own money. Living off what money Specs, Romeo, Mike and Ike made wasn't working, for any of them. He straightened the jacket he'd borrowed from Specs, and placed a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Presentable.
"Ike!"
He grabbed hold of Ike as soon as he walked out of the bathroom.
"How does this look?"
"Like a divorced substitute teacher." Ike walked on into the living room after having earned himself an angry middle finger from Albert.
Albert sighed irritably before running into Specs and Romeo's room. Just as he'd thought, Specs was on the bed, reading a book; probably Harry Potter again.
"Ya think I'll get the job like this?" he asked, gesturing at the outfit.
Specs looked him up and down. An amused smirk appeared on his face.
"How many products didja put in yer hair?"
"Fuck you, man."
"Wait, wait, wait," Specs stopped Albert before he could storm out in an annoyed fashion. "D'ya really think ya need all a' this? Ain't you interviewin' for some cocktail lounge?"
"Holiday Cocktail Lounge, yeah," Albert nodded.
"Just sayin', is that really this..." Specs made some weird gestures towards Albert's outfit while looking for words. "fancy, an' un-Albert?"
"Shut up, this is just what all people wear ta job interviews," Albert said, a second later quickly exiting before Specs could stop him.
He stopped in the mirror again for one last inspection of himself before he left. Presentable. Not too over the top.
"I'm off now!" he shotued, hoping everyone in the apartment could hear him. Then he went out the door.
1:45 PM
With his hands confidently placed in his pockets, Albert hopped off the bus, hoping he left the impression of a man off to do important things to everyone left on it. What he was doing was actually important. A person's first real job interview wasn't something to take lightly. At least so he'd been told by a few of his friends. Mostly Davey.
He made sure to walk with a straight back, his head held high, and big steps. If it made him feel big and important, it would work.
This street was one he'd been on before, but not many enough times to recognize everything he saw. All he needed to know was where to turn, and what building to enter, and he did know that. He walked past an Asian restaurant, a vegan one as well, a nail salon, and finally, at the corner of the street, a cellphone store. Rounding the corner in question, he spotted the entry to Holiday Cocktail Lounge. A red brick building, with a black roof, and black windows. The door looked more like a garage door cut in half than anything else, but the sign above it saved its appearance.
Albert crossed the street, and sped up his steps the last distance to the bar. He pushed the door open, and entered into a room with a cozy atmosphere. Not many people were there, which was understandable, seeing as it wasn't even 2 PM on a Thursday. Because of the openness of the unfilled bar, the woman behind the bar quickly spotted Albert.
"Hello sir! Can I get you anything?" she shouted.
"Uhmm... well," Albert was of course tempted to order something. This menu did not look bad. But that was not what he was there for. "Actually, I'm here for a job interview. Albert DaSilva."
"Oh, in that case!" the girl said. "I'll alert my manager, and she'll come and get you!"
"Sounds great."
Albert rocked back and forth on his feet while he waited. He could totally see himself working at this cocktail bar. The vibes in the room were basically a mirror to him. He tried envisioning himself behind the bar, giddily interacting with the guests, blending the drinks, and making the cocktails. It was an easy vision to see.
"Albert DaSilva, hello!" Albert was snapped out of his fantasies when the bar girl came back with another woman. She held out her hand, and Albert shook it. "Jane Fennerman."
"Albert DaSilva," Albert replied. "As you know."
"Indeed I do," Jane said. "Follow me, DaSilva."
She led Albert through a door behind the bar, through a corridor, and into an office.
"You can take a seat right there, and we'll get goin'."
Albert did as he was instructed, and made himself comfortable in the chair. Jane fumbled around a bit in a box on the desk between them, and pulled out a paper and a pen.
"So, Albert, tell me a bit about yourself."
"Alright," Albert said, sitting up straighter. "As ya know, my name's Albert. I'm 22 years old, an' I kinda need a job." He finished the sentence with a little laugh, as his mind told him he definitely shouldn't have added the last part. Jane was smirking though. Albert quickly added; "I thought this place would be a cool place ta work at fer me. I like people, I like drinks, y'know." Once again, finishing with a laugh.
"Interestin'... What previous work experience do you have?"
"Well..." Right now when Albert needed his brain the most, all of his answers seemed to go forgotten. "I was a newsie. I sold papes- newspapers for," he quickly counted, "almost nine years."
"Hmm," Jane nodded, and to Albert she sounded quite interested. "Were you involved in that strike a few years ago?"
"Oh yeah," Albert grinned. That was still one of his proudest accomplishments. "I was right in that gang. Sold for da World. We were da group that started the strike."
"Nice accomplishment," Jane said, still nodding.
"Thank you," Albert mimicked the movement.
"Do you have any experience in jobs similar to this one?" she gestured towards the wall, on the other side of which Albert thought the bar was.
"Uhm..." This was a question Albert had feared a bit. "I mean, I've got experience in sellin'. We had ta get real creative while sellin' the papes, so I know how ta get folks ta buy shit- stuff."
"But you don't have any experience in making drinks, or bartendering?"
"Nah, but I's a quick learner," Albert responded, a bit too fast. "Show me once, and I'll have it down."
Jane wasn't writing anything down. Albert figured that could mean two things. Either he was nailing it so good she didn't have to write things down to know he was perfect for the job, or he was doing so bad she had no hope. Her body language wasn't too clear. Albert could read nothing of it.
"Mr. DaSilva, how would you describe your work style?" she asked, crossing her arms on the desk.
"Well, I get the job done, no big distractions. If yer lookin' fer distracted people, my friend Racer- Anthony - would be great."
He was finishing way too many sentences with laughs, and he could only hope it made him seem confident and happy.
"We certainly aren't lookin' for distracted people," Jane chuckled. She took a few seconds to read off the paper she'd brought out. "If we were to hire you here, how much would you interact with the guests?"
"Probably a lot," Albert said. "I'm not one ta be quiet."
"That's good here," Jane smiled. "This next question, a lot of people find difficult to answer, but how would you describe your personality?"
"Ooooh, that is a tough one," Albert said. He'd read somewhere that agreeing with the interviewer a lot would leave a good impression. "I'm extroverted... I'm willin' ta do a lot; I'm not exactly careful or anythin'... An' what more can I say?... Romeo, one a' my roommates, says I'm an ESTP, whateva' that means. Do you know what that means?"
"I think I have a vague idea."
That hadn't helped him. Jane didn't like that. She didn't laugh or anything. Albert uncomfortably shifted in the chair.
"So Albert, what would you say are your strengths? In this workplace, that is."
"There's the interaction part, like I said," Albert said. "An' also da whole quick-learna' thing. I'll also happily obey orders; like, from you an' odda' staff. I don't like defyin' people." Albert cringed hard at the lie. He was barely able to get it out. When he reflected over how hard it had been to say, his mind also circled back to another thing he'd read about job interviews.
Don't lie.
"How about your weaknesses?" Jane asked.
"Well, of those, I'd say I got none," Albert smirked. Don't. Lie. Fuck. "Sorry. Jokes. Uhm... Well, I guess I can be a bit loud?"
When he realized he'd made the statement sound more like a question, he smirked again, hoping that would save him.
"Hm," Jane simply said. The smirk obviously hadn't worked. Albert was losing the interview. "My final question for you is: Why do you think we should hire you for this job?"
"Well..." Albert took a deep breath, hoping that would give him time to think of a good answer. "I'm a young, fun and social guy who needs a job, and felt like this was a nice place."
He nodded, pretending he thought the answer was golden. Jane started nodding too, while inspecting the paper she had in front of her. Albert would have liked to see what it said on it. Seeing what exactly he was being judged on would have helped a lot.
"Albert, I'm sorry to tell you this-" Jane began.
"Ah, come on," Albert sighed. "Ya don't have ta continue, I got it from here."
He got out of the chair, and tried carefully not to let his anger show in the form of aggressively shoving the chair in under the desk again.
"I'm sure some place would appreciate your work ethic and personality, but I don't think you're the right fit for our lounge."
"Yeah. I said I get it," Albert said, sounding too salty for his own good. "Thank you for your time, Fennerman. I'll find my own way out.
On his way out of the lounge, he ran his fingers up through his hair, messing it up, back to its usual state. The wind when he went out messed it up further. That was what Albert needed. With steps much quicker and stiffer than on his way there, Albert stormed back down the street to the bus stop.
He'd fucked up his opportunity of a first real job. This wouldn't have been a super-low paying, barely even real teenage job, like the newsie job had been. The bartender job was going to be his launch into taking responsibility for his own life. It wasn't super luxury, or extremely well paying, but what first job was? Why hadn't they hired him? What had he done wrong? What did "not right for our lounge" mean? He was perfect for the job. All they would have had to do was show him how they made their drinks, then he'd be able to be the best bartender they'd ever hired. Demonstratively sitting down on a bench at the bus stop, he re-thought about how great he'd been. Jane had just fucked up. Not hiring Albert was her mistake. Now Albert was gonna go home and make the situation the others' problem.
He looked up to cast another angry glance in the cocktail lounge's direction, but something else quickly caught his eye. Right across the street from where he was sitting was a McDonalds. In the middle window hung a big white sign. Mighty red letters covered it, spelling out two simple words.
"HELP WANTED"
Albert's mind processed the sign several times. It then quickly considered it.
Working at McDonalds? Was that right for Albert? Did that tempt him?
Hell yes it did.
Not giving a single shit about any car wanting to drive by, he jumped off the bench and ran across the street. He pushed the door open, and confidently walked straight to the counter. There was no line to one of the registers. This was all going right.
"Hello and welcome to McDonalds, how can I help you?" the guy behind the counter said.
"I'm here about the 'help wanted' sign," Albert assertively said. He had a good feeling about this.
3:20 PM
For a while that day, Albert certainly hadn't thought he'd come home feeling as accomplished as he now did. Leaving the house, he'd thought so. Leaving the Holiday Cocktail Lounge, he hadn't. Then, leaving McDonalds, he once again had. Mostly because the accomplished feeling was already there when he exited that building. It hadn't faded one bit when he entered his apartment.
"Guys!" he happily shouted. "I'm back!"
"Welcome!" Mike shouted from the twins and Albert's room.
Specs and Romeo on the other hand, actually appeared in the hall. Romeo with excitement in his eyes, and Specs bearing a hopeful expression.
"Didja get the job?" he asked, studying Albert.
"Well," Albert enunciated. He looked up at the two men in front of him, and couldn't hold back the laugh. "I got a job."
Specs suddenly looked concerned. He narrowed his eyes at Albert.
"An' what does that mean?"
"It means youse are lookin' at da face of the new employee at the McDonalds on 1st Avenue," Albert proudly revealed.
Albert tried taking in what Specs' face was saying, but quickly remembered he was shit at reading faces. Instead he focused on Romeo, who was happily congratulating him with a hug.
"Well, that's somethin', ain't it?" Specs finally said, chuckling lightly.
"Hell yeah, it is!" Albert said.
"Well, congrats, Al!" Specs joined the hug.
"Thank ya, Specky boy!"
"Ayyy, Al's got a job!" Ike said, coming out of the bedroom.
"McDonalds employee in da house!" Albert roared.
"So does that mean you can get us free burgers, or... what's the situation now?" Mike queeried. A second later a grin cracked on his lips. Another second later, they were both laughing. "Nah, just jokin'!" Mike threw his arm around Albert's shoulder. "Unless you can. Get us burgers, y'know."
"I'll see what I can do," Albert promised, making it official with a fist bump to both twins.
This was a job that was going to fit him. After all, he did look good in red.
You will review, won't you? If you do, thank you, thank you, thank you! I appreciate it so much! If you don't... it's fine *passive aggressive glance*