Chapter 2: Interview

Everything is going according to plan. Stopped early, went to bed early, got up early. Feel well rested, unburdened, bushy tailed, and rambunctious. Optimistic. This is going to be a good day. I’m starved but I will wait and have breakfast near the offices my appointment is scheduled in. TJ gave me driving directions.

Okay, there’s the company offices, and now I’ll retrace my steps back to the loop. Remember I noticed a truck-stop alongside the exit I got off from the 610 loop. There is plenty of time before my interview. Almost four hours. It’s only a little after six AM.

Inside the truck-stop’s restaurant, it’s bedlam. The two waitresses on duty are having a tizzy. Took me several minutes to ascertain what the situation was. The night shift goofed off. They left dirty pots in the deep sink, didn’t make coffee or biscuits ahead of the six AM shift change, and didn’t bus tables, sweep or mop the joint. The day shift is struggling playing catch up. In addition, there is probably twenty drivers loudly clamoring for service at once. And several quiet police and deputies being served as priority customers.

I have tons of respect for law enforcement. If they are being served first because they serve and protect, hooray for the waitresses. If, on the other hand, they are being served first, because they wait patiently and undemanding, their demeanor is an example to be emulated. I do. Sure enough, the yelling crowd continues to be ignored and I get served right behind the peaceful peace officers.

They notice, and we nod to each other with small knowing smiles. Breakfast was good and filling. I didn’t bother to ask for biscuits and gravy. Biscuits not out of the oven yet.

When the waitress gave me my check, I presented her with a twenty. She refused it, directing me to pay at the cashier’s stand.

“Yes ma’am, I intend to pay at the cashier, but this is for you and your partner as a tip.”

“A twenty dollar tip? Your check is for seven bucks!”

“Yes ma’am, but you two were having a bad start today. I’m making it better. I intend to have a good day and want the two of you to have a good day too.”

The officers all grinned and followed my lead this time. Soon her hands were full of twenty dollar salad. She had the biggest grin I think I’ve ever seen.

On to the interview. Except it’s still way too early. Only seven thirty. More coffee? My kidneys are afloat all ready. There’s a sad rundown looking sex shop, with a painted sign ringed and lit by rows of incandescent bulbs. Can’t afford a neon sign? Open all hours, the sign brags. Hope they have a mens room. Hurriedly parking, I dash inside and implore with a grimace, not at all faked, directions to their men’s room. The attendant, a young woman still suffering with acne beyond her teens, points down a hall. I hurry to relieve myself.

When I return, she is waiting for me. There is no one else in the store. She is afraid I’ll escape without buying something.

She insists on giving me the grand tour of all the varied departments. Especially a sign. Reads thus:

The Obscene Device Law is a Texas statute prohibiting the sale of sex toys. The law was introduced in 1973, but in 2008 a U.S. District Judge declared it to be “facially unconstitutional and unenforceable”. We only sell novelties, I’m formally informed.

In the dildo area, she plucks a package off the pegboard hook and informs me this model is her personal favorite. In the inflatable dolls and pocket pussies department, she shyly informs me she also sells the real thing. She also sells her private photos and dirty panties. The photos are printed on card stock and groups of five, wrapped together in plastic. Which are the best packages, I asked. She leads me to the cash register desk, and from underneath, pulls out a shoebox full of loose unpackaged photos. Perusing among them, I select three. She selects two more, her favorites she says, adds them to the group, wraps them in kitchen wrap and charges me five dollars. If you want the real thing, stop by and see me. No thanks.