Mr. Derren evaluated all the applicants he had on file. So far, there were no criminal records or any suspicious activity he was aware of. Most, if not all the applicants, had quite a few years of work experience as well.
"They all seem like good people. I can't keep worrying about them, I have to hire someone," he said to himself.
He sifted through the files, arranging them by the job they applied for. Mr. Derren reviewed each person and chose the best one for each job and set the rest aside. After a good ten minutes, he had almost the entire staff figured out. The only staff member he was missing was the janitor.
Hesitantly, he reached for the phone.
"It will be fine. I'll know who to pick," reassured himself.
The janitor applicant slowly drove up to the parking lot and eased into a parking space. He twisted his keys out of his ignition and sat for a minute as the humming of the engine died. Considerately, he popped open the console and retrieved all his necessary documents, along with a few notes. He secured the papers tightly and hopped out of the car towards the back entrance.
Mr. Derren looked up at the man before him; a slim, light-haired figure with a posture more stiff than the chair he was going to sit in. He was unmoving, showing no signs of nervousness or calmness. Mr. Derren wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Briskly, Mr. Derren sifted through his documents and pulled out the interview questions.
"I am Mr. Derren, head owner and manager of Travis Turtle's Seafood. I may know your name but I would like to know more about you. Why don't you introduce yourself?"
"Sure. I'm Garrett Flinch, formerly an electrical engineer,"
Mr. Derren winced at the mention of electronics. Hesitantly, he asked,
"What kind of electronics did you work with?"
"I installed wiring in buildings. Houses, mostly,"
Mr. Derren felt momentarily relieved, then went back to the questions.
"What made you want to work at Travis Turtle's?"
"Early retirement funding. And I'd get to work alone,"
"Do you have any physical or mental conditions that have prevented you from working before?"
"No,"
"Would you be comfortable working in the dark?"
"Sure, I don't mind,"
"If asked, would you complete minor tasks outside of daily cleanup?"
"Yes, that's fine,"
"This is our last question: do you promise to ensure the safety of all people and equipment you come across on the job?"
"Yes, of course,"
"Good, excellent! Now just sign this contract here and we'll contact you in a week...if you get the job, you know,"
Garrett eloquently signed the contract to make sure his name was legible. He then got up, shook Mr. Darren's hand, and swiftly headed out the door, nearly banging it against the wall by swinging it open so fast.
Once he got outside, he drew out a long, shaky exhale. Appearing calm and collected was difficult, especially since he had started shaking as soon as he left. He barely made it to his car since every step was like walking on jello.
When he finally got inside, all of his anxiety washed over him. He would have to hold his worries in all over again if he was to ever go back there.
At least if I went back, I'd have the job Garret thought. He decided to let the rest of his anxieties go as he pulled out of the parking lot and watched the traffic pass by.
