Haunting Sins - Part 1

It was in the middle of the broiling blacktop parking lot that déjà vu assailed David Sands. But instead of the impression that he’d already had a similar experience, he sensed that he was about to fail at finding a job again.

His destination was a video store, and every other window not dominated by movie posters was plastered with signs that declared Now Hiring.

But experience had taught David that “now hiring” didn’t mean what he thought it did. Usually, “now hiring” meant, “looking for someone besides you.”

The first blast of frigid air from the central cooling system was a shocking contrast to the hot July air outside, and David nearly swooned when he stepped into the video store. His sweat-dampened clothes became chilly, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask for the manager or just leave. If he stayed to talk, the heat would be more shocking when he stepped outside to continue on his route.

Still, David needed a job, and the idea of working in a video store was preferable to working as a sacker, or as a burger flipper. And by then, David was desperate enough to take those jobs if either were offered to him.

Walking to the front counter, he slipped off his backpack to take out the folder he kept applications in.

“Hi,” the clerk said when she noticed him.

“Hey. I’m just turning in an application.” David passed it over the counter. “Is the manager available?”

The clerk paused to look over the front page of his application, nodding to herself while she read the chart of available hours. “I think he may be. Let me go check for you.”

“Thanks.” David waited for the clerk to wander around the counter and head to a door at the back of the store before he dug into the front pouch of his bag for a box of mints. Popping one of the mints, he slipped the box and folder back into his bag before he heard footsteps behind him and turned around.

The manager didn’t bother with a greeting, nor did he offer his hand for a handshake. Instead, he opened the application and frowned. “I see you were a computer technician.”

David tried to keep a straight face, but he knew where the conversation was headed. “Yes, I’ve been working in tech positions for almost three years, but these days there aren’t any computer jobs.”

“Well...you know we only pay minimum wage.”

 “Yes sir, but I’ve been making zero dollars an hour for six months now, and my bank account is running on fumes.” David knew it was a mistake to mention his desperation to find work.

But after hearing the same comment multiple times, it was hard not to feel agitated by the callousness of hiring managers.

He pressed on, but the interview was over before it had begun. “I have excellent references, and I live about a mile and a half from here. I can be available for any shift, and I’m willing to come in if someone calls in sick on—”

“Yes, that’s fine,” the manager cut him off. “I’ll put your application on file, and we’ll call you if we have anything open up.”

The clerk grimaced.

David didn’t need to see her facial slip to know what “filing” his application meant. He’d been through the same routine many times already.

“Thank you, sir.” David watched the manager walk away before he shrugged his bag back over his shoulders and left the shop.

Every day was the same thing. If he was able to see a manager, his talks with them were made in vain. He was only twenty-two, and yet he was already overqualified for minimum wage work.

He had excellent references, mainly because he had never quit or been fired from a job. Being a contract laborer, he worked with each company until he was no longer needed, and then he moved on to something else.

But the tech market in San Antonio had tanked, and the jobs weren’t available from any of the companies he normally visited. They wouldn’t offer him any of the warehouse jobs, and his efforts to find anything to keep his rent and phone bill paid had yielded nothing.

David didn’t want to give in to his growing sense of apathy, but it didn’t seem fair to him that he was ignored for available jobs simply because he was smart enough to fix a computer.

Not counting the short talks with managers, he hadn’t been to an interview for any position he’d applied for since leaving his last assignment. Each day he walked a wider area to look for work, and he felt the sting of frustration a little more when he went home unsuccessful in his hunt.

The rest of his day didn’t go any better, and he could not even find another place where the manager was willing to speak to him. He’d walked almost three miles from his house before fatigue caused him to give up. Though he couldn’t afford it, he decided to take a cab home.

Peeling out of his sticky clothes, he went to the bathroom to take a shower. David leaned his head against the wall and let the lukewarm water run down the back of his neck. Then he raised his head to let the stream wash sweat out of his short, curly black hair.

He washed his face, hating the minefield of painful shaving bumps that covered his cheeks. But he had to shave every day, even if he hated it. He had to look clean-cut and professional, because a light shadow of stubble could be taken as a sign that he was “ghetto.”

He tried to keep his mind blank, but a nagging voice insisted that he was no longer a real person. Smart or not, now he was just another black man who couldn’t find a job. It didn’t matter that he’d been a great employee at his old jobs. Having no job reduced his value as a person, even to his friends.

Without work, he couldn’t afford to go out. He couldn’t invite his friends over to his home either. The stereo and TV were pawned, so there was nothing to do at his apartment but talk. Lately David’s conversations all revolved around needing to find work.

Even he could admit that he was becoming a chronic whiner, but with his circumstances always seeming so dire, it was hard not to complain.

His book and CD collections were gone, and he had no way to keep himself entertained aside from thinking.

Even a trip across town to the library was out of the question. During the first two months, there had been the local branch to check out books from. But the city had closed down the branch without notice. One day a sign was posted on the front door explaining that due to a lack of funds, the branch was shutting down.

David didn’t want to admit it, but lots of businesses in the area had shut down too. It seemed that a too many companies were having problems with a lack of funds.

Even without stiff competition in the job market, David had a major strike against him for his previous technical jobs. More specifically, he had a strike against him for daring to take salaries above minimum wage.

It was hard not to feel anger over the problem. He was never a bad employee, and yet even a guy drooling on his shoes had a better chance of working in the places David applied at. He could almost feel good about being too smart for manual labor positions, but he didn’t mind working in anything if the job paid.

Upon thinking that, David offered up a prayer. “God, I don’t care who comes calling. I just need to find a job.”

***

Dinner was leftover spaghetti with a thin tomato sauce. He’d used up the last of his grated cheese earlier in the week, and both it and the nearly empty bottle of ketchup in the refrigerator were about to become luxury items.

The dishes were cleaned and put away before he went to his desk to begin filling out more applications.

Each application had a sticky memo note attached at the top. The memos listed the positions available and the distance from the house. Most of the remaining applications were all outside of a three mile range, meaning he would have to either take the bus to arrive, or get up very early to walk before the sun was up. Neither idea appealed to him.

He looked around when the phone rang, and then his gaze rose toward the ceiling. “Please, not a telemarketer.” Picking up the phone, he swallowed nervously. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this David Sands?”

“Yes it is.”

“My name is Emilio Cortez. I saw your resume on Monster, and I wondered if you had a few minutes to answer some questions?”

“Sure, absolutely.” David cringed, berating himself not to sound too eager.

“I see you took some certification classes in HTML and web design?”

“Yes sir, and I was able to use the skills while I was working for a few of the companies. Mostly I just formatted documents to go up on the company intranets, so there wasn’t much hands-on coding.”

“If I needed to ask you for HTML examples, could you provide them?”

“Yes, I have a web site set up with a few of my design templates if you’ve got a connection available.”

“Yes, hold on...go ahead and give me the address.”

David did, listening to Emilio type it in. The silence on the other end of the line was nerve wracking, but he bit his lip and waited.

“Yeah, that’s pretty good...maybe a bit too conservative for what I need, but not bad. David, before I invite you in for an interview, I have one important question I need to ask first.”

“Go ahead.”

“How do you feel about working with adult material?”

David swore he could hear God laughing. “Um...I’m not a prude, I guess. I’ve watched a few adult movies.”

Which was something of a minor lie. In fact, he had seen one and a half adult movies. Neither had appealed to him, but it wasn’t the sex that turned him off. It was the horrible quality of the movies.

On the other end of the line, there was a short pause. “I think I need to be more clear. This job would require that you handle a lot of porn of various categories. Odds are pretty good you’ll be working with something which...how shall I put this? Which doesn’t float your boat.”

“Sir, I’m more concerned with finding stability and a decent salary. The work itself won’t matter if the money is good.”

“All right, I want you to come in tomorrow morning at ten when our office opens. I’ll explain the business to you and we can discuss your salary. If you like what you hear, we can set you up in your own office.”

“T-tomorrow?” David stammered.

“Is that a problem for you? I can reschedule to—”

“No!” David forced himself to relax. “No, tomorrow is fine. I just wasn’t expecting to go from an interview to the work floor in the same day.”

Emilio laughed. “I won’t lie to you. We lost our webmaster early last week, and I need someone in here yesterday. Most of the people I’ve interviewed this week have balked over the job itself. The workload is backing up, and I’m not qualified to handle it myself.”

“Should I wear a tie?” David asked.

“David, it’s porn,” Emilio said and chuckled again. “Everyone in porn dresses casual.”

***

David couldn’t sleep for most of the night. His mind was trying to play with numbers, organizing his bills into stacks of what would need to be paid first if he got the job. He had no idea what the job would pay, but he guessed eight dollars an hour before taxes was a safe conservative guess.

The liability insurance on the truck would have to be renewed first. Then once he could afford to drive it again, he would get back his internet connection next. From there he could start paying off all of his other bills on a regular schedule again, and if he was very good with his budgeting, he could get himself out of the hole created around him by six months without work.

No sooner had he come to that conclusion when a voice began to nag at him about the job itself.

Of course he would not be working on some seedy set with a laptop to upload video as it was filmed...at least he felt sure he wouldn’t. But even that was a guess because he had zero experience working with adult sites.

He had little experience in surfing the sites as a customer. He had heard pornography was only three clicks away on the internet, and yet he never really found much of what he saw to be appealing. Admitting he didn’t care for most porn brought up a worry that he might hate his job.

He pushed the thought aside and spoke out loud to reassure himself of his plans. “It doesn’t matter what the job is. Your bill collectors don’t care if you take a moral high road or not. A job is a job, and if the money is good, you can’t complain.”