FADE IN:
INT. OFFICE- DAY
Workers scurry around through a maze of cubicles, carrying clipboards and manila folders. The room is assaulted by the constant ringing of phones. A plaque on one door reads: HUMAN RESOURCES. JOY and LINDSAY are chatting, and sipping cups of coffee. Joy is dressed in a long, black business skirt with a white shirt. Her brown-red polished DESK is immaculate. The walls are empty, and seem to glow from the bare, white paint.
Yeah, the next interview is in a few minutes.
This next one looks like he’s actually even qualified for the job.
What don’t people understand about an ad that says-call center experience a must?
LINDSAY (patronizing)
Yeah, I mean if you want to work at a call center that has basically no training,
it might be a good idea to already know your way around.
JOY
People need to get over themselves and read the ads.
You know the last guy I interviewed didn’t even have a High school diploma.
Lindsay shakes her head in agreement.
LINDSAY
I think he’s here.
Through the office window we see a man in his early twenties, TREVOR, at the front desk. He is wearing a black Paramore T-SHIRT. His hair is spiked and highlighted blond. He has several facial piercings and is wearing a pair of blue jeans. Dark tattoos wrap around his neck and forearm. Lindsay is suppressing laughter, and trying hard to stifle a smirk. Joy stands up and walks to the window next to Lindsay. JOY is stunned, her mouth hangs down and her eyes are wide open.
JOY (chuckling)
No, that’s probably Janine’s boy friend. He looks the part.
A moment later the receptionist points back to the HR room and TREVOR makes his way back. Joy moves to her doorway, blocking his entry. She is speechless, but finally manages to hold out her hand and speak.
JOY
Hi…I’m Joy. You must be Mr. Walters?
TREVOR
Yes, ma’am.
Joy stands with a blank expression on her FACE, unable to believe he is the interviewee. After a few moments she fakes a SMILE, and motions him in.
JOY
How are you today?
TREVOR
I’m doing good, thanks. And how are you?
JOY
I see that you worked at AT&T for five years. Up until 2006.
I didn’t notice this before, but after 2006 your application and resume are both blank.
TREVOR
Yeah. My mother’s lupus got out of control.
I had to move back to Goshen to take care of her. Her life partner broke up with her.
She said that her son should take care of her now. She doesn’t have much longer.
Joy fakes another smile and stifles a long, loud exhale. Her eyes berate him, she begins looking at him like something she scraped off the bottom of her shoe.
JOY
So, if you don’t mind me asking who’s going to take care of her while you work?
TREVOR
My sister.
JOY
Can I ask you an honest question Trevor?
Trevor shifts on his seat and pulls something wrapped in paper out of his back pocket. It is a smashed, submarine sandwich. He unfolds the paper carefully. Crumbs fall to the ground as he tilts his head and slowly takes a bite. His cheek is smeared with mustard.
TREVOR (garbled with a mouthful of food)
Sure, those are the only questions I like.
JOY
Why did you come to a job interview with a rock T-shirt and jeans? And, those piercings?
TREVOR
Oh, you don’t like Paramore? They ROCK!
JOY
I’m sorry, but this interview is over. If you’ll excuse me Trevor.
She stands up and begins stacking papers. As she is about to head to the door Trevor speaks.
Wait, please don’t do this to me. These are the only clothes I had clean.
My mom is dying. Don’t you have a mother Mrs. Stipes?
I’m sorry, Trevor. This discussion is over.
Can you please leave my office?
INT. UNIVERSITY LIBRARY ROOM-DAY
Several students sit around a long desk listening to TREVOR as he gesticulates. On a Television screen we see him the day of his interview. He is pointing to the television and speaking. He is dressed in a white, button up shirt and beige pants. A student raises his hand.
DAN
Do you think she bought your mom’s whole lesbian lover bit?
PROFESSOR TREVOR (chuckling softly)
I think she bought everything, Dan. That was the problem. This proves a lot of things. First, most people lack compassion. I could have told her I had three days left to live and she still wouldn’t have hired me. But at the same time we can’t be too cynical. There’s a hierarchy here. If she hired me, what would her superiors think? Even if she told them I’d be gone in three days and that I was dying? Now from a sociological standpoint, and to quote one of my favorite authors, we all have at least three different lives. The Red Cross and the YMCA are beneficiaries of Mrs. Joy Stipes. She’s also worked at a nursing home most of her life, and the residents loved her. She still visits. That’s her first life, at work she has a different life, thus, she becomes a different person, different set of morays…
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