Mae stared listlessly at her laptop's computer screen.
The Careers page on the Ham Panther website was pretty standard fare for online applications. In the last few weeks, Mae had become fairly familiar with the layout of these things. There were always pictures of smiling, photogenic employees helping customers, looking over merchandise, or staring at something that was off-camera. There was always paragraph after paragraph about the opportunities a minimum wage job with their company could lead to.
The specifics might be different, but the layout was usually the same.
Mae's New Year's resolution had been to get a job… if she got around to it. She hadn't really taken the resolution seriously. After all, weren't New Year's resolutions just things people said and then never did? Nobody actually started going to the gym more or eating better; they just brought their resolutions up if anyone asked.
But the more Mae had thought about it, the more seriously she took it. It wasn't that Mae wanted to work—nobody really wanted to work—but she felt like it would be a good thing to look into. Her parents were having money problems, after all, and pierogis usually didn't pay for themselves.
That was assuming Mae could even get a job. Back in college, she'd bagged groceries—that hadn't lasted long. Mae doubted her old managers would be willing to give her a glowing endorsement, either. That left Mae with no experience to put down, and without experience, odds of getting a job were slim.
How were you supposed to get job experience if nobody wanted to hire anyone without it?
Ham Panther had been Mae's last choice. She didn't really want to apply to Hamp Panther. Employees seemed to have nothing but horror stories about the place. On top of that, the inside of a Ham Panther always felt off, somehow. Mae was 90% certain that every Ham Panther was in some way haunted.
Not that you'd be able to tell that from the pictures Ham Panther used for their website. The people in the pictures all looked like they were way too happy to actually be working. They were probably actors, or models, or both.
Mae sighed. She'd been staring at the web page for, like, five minutes. Just staring at it wasn't going to get Mae the awful job she needed.
Mustering her courage, Mae moved her cursor over to the large, colorful, 'APPLY HERE' button.
The application process, like the webpage itself, was par for the course; page after page of personal information, education history, and questions about the army that Mae was able to just click through. The questionnaire portion of the application was the only part that Mae really needed to pay attention to.
Question 1: Do you consider yourself the sort of person who thrives in a position of leadership?
Mae frowned. She had no idea what this question had to do with stocking shelves. Moreover, Mae had no idea how someone would know this about themselves.
Thinking about it, Mae guessed she was pretty okay at being a leader. But then again, she was really, really good at just going along with things. Sometimes when she hung out with Gregg or Germ, she wouldn't even know what they were doing until the day was over.
With a shrug, Mae clicked the bubble next to the 'Maybe' option and continued on down the list.
Question 6: A manager has given instructions on how to complete a task. You are aware of a way to complete the task that is safer and more efficient. What do you do?
Mae thought that the answer to this one was pretty straightforward. Then again, sometimes the answer that these things wanted wasn't the one you'd think. Mae took a quick look over the options and tried to think like a big conglomerate.
If she were Ham Panther, how would she want the people inside of her to act?
Mae clicked the bubble next to the third option: 'Follow the manager's instructions. The supervisor got their job by knowing better than you.' The answer didn't feel right, but it did feel like something that people in charge would enjoy hearing.
Mae continued on.
Question 9: A trolley is running out of control and is about to run over a Ham Panther customer. You can pull a lever to make the trolley switch tracks. However, on the other track are several of your fellow Ham Panther employees. Do you pull the lever?
Okay, these questions were getting a little weird now.
The trolley problem was about the only thing in philosophy that Mae really knew about. She hadn't expected to see it on a job application, though. Thinking about how to answer this one was giving Mae a headache.
Mae skipped on ahead and checked the next question.
Question 10: If asked, would you kill for Ham Panther?
That was enough job application for today. Mae quickly exited the webpage and closed her laptop.
Maybe she needed some sun.
The best place to get some sun was, of course, the Ol' Pickaxe.
Well, really, Mae just wanted to talk to Bea, and the Pickaxe was the only place to find her.
The Pickaxe, as usual, hadn't been terribly busy. Mae was up a little earlier than usual, so she'd expected to see at least a few customers. When Mae entered the Pickaxe, though, the only people around were Bea and the repairman who drove the big truck.
The truck driver didn't stick around for long, and soon it was just Mae and Bea. With no customers in sight, Mae was able to strike up a conversation. Bea politely (Well, more like tiredly) listened as Mae went over her job-search woes.
"I mean, it's ridiculous," Mae grumbled. "Why is finding a job so hard? Why can't jobs just be, like, guaranteed? I keep sending in applications, but for some reason no one wants to hire me! I haven't even gotten called in for an interview! Can you believe that?"
Bea blinked. "I'll agree that finding a job is pretty difficult, but, I mean… you're really unhireable. You've flat-out admitted to people that you regularly stole from the only job you've ever had."
Mae couldn't really argue with that. So instead of arguing, she just folded her arms and stared at Bea.
"Look, there are plenty of places around town where you could look for a town," Bea pointed out. "I mean, that Dan guy changes jobs every few days. Just apply to the places he's been fired from."
Mae opened her mouth to speak, but Bea interrupted her.
"Except here," she said quickly. "Don't apply here. I love you like a sister, Mae, but I will never hire you."
Mae had expected Bea to say that. The Pickaxe had been the first place that Mae had applied to—or, rather, tried to apply to. Bea had stopped Mae before she could even hand in her application. In the weeks since then, Bea's opinion on hiring Mae hadn't changed one bit.
"But I'm super responsible!" Mae exclaimed, fooling absolutely no one. "Remember last year when we went up to Mrs. Miranda's house? I helped you fix that piece of shit furnace that had a face on it!"
Bea raised a single eyebrow at Mae's recollection of events.
"No," she said. "I fixed the furnace, and then you broke it so we could get out of the basement. If Mrs. Miranda hadn't locked us in the basement, your only contribution would've been tying a bunch of garbage to a furnace."
Mae scrunched up her face in a focused attempt to remember that night from last year. "I remember it differently," she said.
This actually brought a small smile to Bea's face. Mae was willing to bet that it wasn't amusing enough to change Bea's mind about hiring her, though.
"Look, if you ever prove me wrong about you being responsible, I'll hire you in a heartbeat," Bea said. "Until then, though, you could just do what Germ does."
Mae frowned. "Hang out in a parking lot?"
Bea sighed irritably. She gave Mae a look that made it clear she wasn't sure if Mae was joking or not. "No, I mean you could help me out unofficially. I'd pay you under the table if you help unload supplies or organize stuff."
Mae briefly considered this. On the one hand, she'd love getting some money. Plus, it would be super satisfying to prove Bea wrong about Mae being responsible.
On the other hand, moving and organizing stuff sounded really bad and boring. Mae could just picture herself struggling to carry heavy tools or bags of rock salt. It made Mae's muscles hurt just thinking about it. Mae was also pretty certain she'd get distracted and wind up trying to build something with all of the stuff in the back.
"Nah," Mae decided. "I think I'll look elsewhere."
Bea scoffed. "Good to know you're taking this seriously."
But she was taking this seriously. Mae was taking this whole 'job' thing about as seriously as everything else. It just wasn't really Mae's number one priority. Mae had a lot of things she needed to do, after all, and finding a job wasn't at the top of the list.
At the moment, Mae's priorities looked like this:
1) Hang out with Gregg as much as possible before his big move to Bright Harbor.
2) Deal with that whole 'mental illness' thing.
3) Dig up Casey's mysterious lockbox full of cash.
4) Try and get in contact with the Bombshell from Jackie's party.
5) Get a job, probably.
Mae made a mental note to write that list down in her journal sometime. Or not. Whatever.
Bea glanced over at the clock that hung over the Pickaxe's door. She sighed and returned her attention to Mae, her arms folded over her chest.
"Look, Mae, I really can't stand around talking about this all day," she said. "And I'm not really the best person to ask for advice about jobs, anyway. I didn't exactly apply to work here. Isn't there someone else who can help you out with this?"
Bea sounded fairly irritated, but Mae understood why. Mae was kind of bothering her at work. And even if Mae had literally never actually seen a single customer come in while Bea was working, Mae knew it wasn't right to distract Bea.
Bea was right about the job thing, too. There was someone Mae could talk to about her job application woes. There was someone in town who had managed to land a job despite having problems just like Mae's— someone who'd been exactly where Mae was right now.
An old friend, a kindred spirit, who would know just what to say.
The weather in Possum Springs was getting warmer, but it was still pretty cold. It was the kind of day that made Mae wish she had a car to ride around in instead of jumping all over town.
She didn't want to drive, herself—she just wanted to ride around in someone else's car. Preferably, a car that had satellite radio.
It wasn't a very long walk from the Pickaxe to the Snack Falcon. Even with how easily Mae got distracted, it hadn't taken more than a few minutes. Mae just hoped that she'd find who she was looking for, and wouldn't have to walk around looking for them.
Mae walked through Snack Falcon's door and stepped into the convenience store's air conditioned interior. The Snack Falcon was always chilly—the snacks needed to be cold, apparently. Gregg seemed to be okay with the cold air, though. His leather jacket probably helped a lot.
As always, the Snack Falcon was pretty much empty. As Mae scanned the linoleum items, she quickly spotted the man she was looking for. He was standing by the slushee machine, filling an extra-large cup to the brim. The cup's brightly-colored contents were spilling out over his hand, but he didn't seem to mind.
Mae approached him, generic music playing over the loudspeaker. The two of them were pretty much the only people in the Snack Falcon, so Mae wasn't too worried about being overheard. Not that she usually worried about that, anyway.
"Hey," Mae said when she reached the slushee machine.
The store's sole other occupant looked up at her and offered a short nod in greeting. He returned his attention to his overfilling cup.
Mae paused, uncertain. "So, look… I'm having some trouble with this whole job hunting thing. I was hoping you had some advice."
He didn't answer. For a while, the only noise was the sound of the slushee machine dispensing its syrupy contents. After a moment, the only other person in the Snack Falcon pulled his cup away from the dispenser. Without a word, he lifted the extra-large cup to his mouth and chugged its contents down in a matter of seconds. Mae watched all of this with a mixture of confusion, awe, and fear.
With an audible swallow and sigh, Mae's friend finished downing his slushee. When he was finally done, he looked up at Mae and spoke.
"I've never had a job," Germ said. "I'm 18."
Mae blinked. "Oh," she said. "For some reason I thought you had a job back in high school."
"Nope," Germ said. He placed his cup back in the slushee dispenser and began refilling it. Streams of multicolored slush poured from the dispenser, rapidly filling the massive cup Germ had procured.
"Huh," Mae mused. "You know, on second thought, I should've asked Gregg for advice."
"Yup," Germ said.
Mae glanced around the empty Snack Falcon. She wasn't entirely sure where to go from here.
The eerie sounds of convenience store muzak filled the shop. Without Gregg around to play rockabilly music or scream about parties, the Snack Falcon felt weirdly foreign. Snack Falcons were probably only a little less haunted than Ham Panthers.
"Wait, where is Gregg?" Mae asked.
"Eating lunch," Germ said. "I'm watching the shop." His eyes never left slushee machine.
Mae glanced at the cup Germ seemed to be entirely focused on. More and more slushee spilled out of Germ's cup and splattered onto the linoleum floor. Did he not know he was putting too much in his cup? Did he simply not care? Wasn't it too chilly for a slushee anyway?
Every time Mae hung out with Germ, she wound up having more questions than she'd had before.
Mae frowned thoughtfully. "Are you sure you've never had a job? I could've sworn you worked at the Food Donkey in high school."
"No," Germ said. "That doesn't sound like me."
"Oh, weird," Mae muttered. "I must be thinking of somebody else."
That was really the only possible explanation, now that Mae thought about it. After all, Mae hadn't really started associating with Germ until after she'd dropped out of college. But still, who was it that Mae was thinking of? It was someone who'd stocked shelves at the Food Donkey, right? The more Mae thought about it, the more frustrating it became.
Mae began mentally cycling through the people who'd had jobs in high school. Beth Holstead? No, she'd worked at Pastabilities (RIP). Josh? Mae was pretty sure he'd just worked on his parents' farm. Cindy Clark? She'd had a job, but stopped working there after the nose-ring incident. Levy? Mae didn't know if what he did qualified as a job—it wasn't legal, after all.
Mae sighed. Maybe this was just going to be one of those things she'd never remember, like how to multiply fractions, or her mom's maiden name.
A red light on the slushee machine switched on as the last of the Wild Cherry flavor slushed into Germ's cup. Mae waited patiently for Germ to down his third slushee, silently hoping he wouldn't move on to another flavor. Thankfully, it seemed like Germ wasn't in the mood to sample the Frosty Fiascola.
Mae decided to take a chance and ask Germ for advice on the whole job thing. There was always a chance he could offer some good advice. Or, at the very least, he could invite Mae over for sloppy joes again.
"So, I've been trying to find a job lately," Mae said. "That hasn't been working out."
"Okay," Germ said as he dropped his now-empty cup into the garbage bin.
Mae shrugged nonchalantly. "I dunno, maybe that's a good thing. I honestly don't know if I'm ready for a job. I start thinking about going to work and I get all panicky. It's such a big change, you know? I'm bad with changes."
"You gotta get better at it," Germ said. "Can't fight change. It's inevitable. Everything changes."
Mae laughed darkly. "Trust me, Germ, I already know all that. I don't wanna fight change; I just wanna be better at dealing with it."
Germ nodded as if he understood, but Mae felt like he didn't. At this point, Germ was the only member of the group who didn't know why Mae had dropped out of college. He didn't know about the shapes, or about the disconnection from reality Mae had felt. Mae was perfectly okay with leaving Germ in the dark on that subject.
It wasn't that she didn't trust Germ, of course. He'd earned Mae's trust that night when he helped get her friends out of the mine. But Mae didn't know if she could really open up to Germ. She barely knew him, after all. All Mae really knew was that Germ had a dead brother and liked trampolines.
The guy was still kind of an enigma.
A thought occurred to Mae. While she hadn't really hung out with Germ back in high school, Casey had—the two of them skated together. There was a chance that Germ might know about the lockbox. Hell, he might even know if there was actually any money in it, or even where it was buried.
"Hey, Germ?" Mae began. "You and Casey hung out after he graduated, right?"
"I used to skateboard with Casey out in the parking lots," Germ said. "One time we got chased by a dog out there."
Mae instinctively reached up and touched the spot where a dog had bitten off a chunk of her ear. It was something that she always did when she heard a story about a dog being crazy. Mae wasn't afraid of dogs, but hearing those stories always made her have flashbacks.
Mae pulled her hand away from her ear and tried to clear her head. "Okay, so… did Casey ever mention anything about—"
"It was one of those big dogs," Germ continued, interrupting her. "The really big ones. The ones that try and sit on your lap, but they get all over you."
Mae blinked. "Uh… Okay?"
"It chased us for a while," Germ said. "Kept trying to knock us off of our boards. We couldn't leave the parking lot, 'cause it would circle around us. Like it was herding us, you know?"
Mae didn't say anything. This wasn't the information she'd wanted, but now she was invested in the story.
Germ shrugged. "Casey ran away while the dog was chasing me. He ditched me in the parking lot. I ran from the dog for a while and then I didn't get home until dark."
There wasn't really anything Mae could say to that. Most of the stories Germ told tended to end in confused silence. She sort of felt like she should apologize about the dog thing, but she didn't really know why.
Mae was so thrown off by Germ's story that she nearly forgot what she'd been trying to ask him. She quickly pushed Germ's story aside and tried to mentally refocus.
"Okay," Mae said. "So, do you know if Casey—"
"I have to go now," Germ said.
Mae could only let out a tiny stammer of confusion before Germ walked away. Mae watched as the young man walked slowly and steadily towards the Snack Falcon's exit, not even bothering to stop for the automatic doors. The doors clicked shut behind him, and soon Germ had disappeared down the street, towards the Food Donkey.
It occurred to Mae that she should probably be more upset when Germ just up and left in the middle of a conversation like that. It was kind of hard to get mad at Germ, though. He was like some sort of alien who didn't play by society's rules.
Wait. Holy shit, was Germ an alien? Were he and his family secretly extraterrestrial infiltrators? It would definitely explain a lot.
No, wait—that was really stupid.
Mae frowned at the weird ideas her brain came up with when she didn't have friends to hang out with. This was why waking up early wasn't worth it—all her friends were busy working.
Well, actually, Lori probably wasn't working—Lori was probably in school. But school was basically just work that you didn't get paid for, so it was the same thing.
"One day I'll have a job," Mae muttered. "And my friends will want to hang out when I'm working. I'll totally ditch work to hang out with them. That's what friends do."
"Who're you talking to?" Gregg asked from behind the counter.
At the sound of Gregg's voice, Mae's heart nearly leaped out of her chest. She hadn't seen Gregg come in—hadn't even heard him. But he was just standing at the counter, staring over at her in mild confusion.
Mae made a mental note to get revenge on Gregg for nearly scaring her half to death.
"Where the hell did you come from?" Mae asked as she approached the counter. "Germ said you were eating lunch."
"Yeah, I was eating a sandwich in the back. I don't go out to eat, usually—just fix a sandwich at home and eat it here." Gregg pointed over his shoulder at the wall behind him, apparently trying to communicate some kind of location.
"This place has a back?!" Mae exclaimed.
"Yeah, it's where the guys bring the chips!" Gregg said enthusiastically. He loved it when the guys brought the chips. "I gotta get here early and, like, sign for shit. Lemme tell ya, Mae, having a job is a real hassle sometimes."
Mae laughed bitterly. "Tell me about it! When I had that one job, I actually cried when I realized I had to start going into work."
The friendly, excited smile on Gregg's face disappeared. He studied Mae, trying to decide if she was joking or not and quickly realized she wasn't.
"Mae, that's not normal," Gregg said. "That's… I think that's something you should talk to someone about."
Mae, who had assumed crying about working was a normal thing, felt her smile fall away. Now that Mae thought about it, Gregg was probably right. That whole 'breaking down and crying thing' was definitely something Mae should have been more concerned about.
It was beginning to feel like every time Mae opened up to her friends about something, she found something new to bring up with her therapist. If she ever got a therapist, that was.
Mae was still getting around to that.
"You know what?" Mae asked, a realization dawning. "I'm tired of thinking about jobs. I've been thinking about that junk all day. I just wanna do something I actually enjoy before I give up a chunk of my life to some faceless corporation."
Gregg nodded. A look of displeasure appeared on his face as some disconcerting thought seemed to occur to him.
"Dude, could you imagine if corporations actually had faces?" Gregg asked in a horrified whisper.
Mae immediately pictured a giant, scowling face coming out of the exterior of the Ham Panther outside of town. Any resolve or enthusiasm Mae had for the rest of the day faded away in an instant. For the next few hours, all Mae would be able to think about was the Ham Panther Face.
"Damn, dude," Mae muttered. "Damn."
