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Quintessa
I get up early on Wednesday morning after a sucky day yesterday. The interview on Monday had me bummed to the point that I didn’t bother leaving the apartment. I stayed in bed most of the day alternating between sleeping and mindlessly watching TV. The experience of dealing with a jerk like Essex DePaul has left me questioning life. Like, why do people like him get so far ahead? It’s like they’re rewarded for their inappropriate behavior and meanwhile, us little people don’t have two pennies to rub together. How’s that fair? This guy has millions and I’m struggling, living at the mercy of my best friend. I did all the right things in life. I wasn’t rebellious. I was nowhere near the partying type. I graduated from college and got a job. Should I have saved more money? Of course, but this is America – the land of the free and home of the broke where people live paycheck-to-paycheck and so far above their means that their money is spent before they earn it. The little money I saved over the years is what I’ve lived off of for the last five months and when that ran out, so did my luck.
But, I’m not going to wallow in this series of unfortunate events. It’s so easy to do – to indulge in daily doses of misery when life isn’t working out the way I envisioned. I’ve been there, done that so many times, I’ve lost count, but not today. Today is a new day, which means I have a new opportunity to start over and work toward my goals.
I breathe deeply and say, “You’re going to get this job today.”
I will get this job today. With a renewed sense of optimism, I take a long, relaxing shower. Ella donated another one of her blouses to me last night, a pink one this time. I paired it with a black skirt and four-inch shiny black wedges. I brush my hair in a ponytail, dab on some foundation, tame my unruly eyebrows and apply some mascara to my lashes. After I put on some pink lip gloss, you can’t tell me nothing. It’s amazing what a shower and a lil’ makeup can do for a woman’s self-esteem.
“You’re going to kill this interview, Quintessa,” I tell myself while staring in the mirror. “You got this. Just breathe and go get it. You have the skills. You know you have the skills, girl. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”
Yeah, I got this. DePaul & Company is not the only accounting firm in the world. Dominion is good. The pay is not as good, but hey, it’s a job. Besides, currently, I’m making zero dollars and no cents. Seventeen dollars an hour sounds real good right about now. It’s a way for me to finally get my own place.
I glance at the clock. It’s 7:35 a.m. The interview is scheduled for 10:00 a.m. I have plenty of time to relax beforehand. I grab my cell phone and go to the kitchen, slice a blueberry bagel, and take some cream cheese from the fridge.
Ella walks in and says, “Hey, girl. I see you’re feeling better. You look good.”
“Yeah, I am feeling so much better. Today is my day. I’ma go up in there and get this job.”
“That’s the spirit, Quin. My girl is back. Watch out world!”
I giggle at her. “Hey, do you want a bagel while I’m making one for myself?”
“No. I’m feeling more like oatmeal this morning,” she said, opening the cabinet where she keeps the oats.
Still standing at the counter, I take a bite of my bagel and pick up my phone, browsing through the endless sea of emails from every single business, store or restaurant I’ve subscribed to. But there’s an email that stands out, nestled within them all. It’s from DePaul & Company. Instinctively, I wanted to delete it. I’m certain it’s one of those random survey emails that asks stupid, post-interview questions. Whoever sent it is probably not aware that my interview never happened. Curiosity gets the best of me and instead of deleting the email, I click on it to find it’s not what I thought it was. It’s an actual email from Essex DePaul. Supposedly…
To: Quintessa Bailey
From: Essex DePaul
Date: Tuesday, February 1, 2022 05:45:28 EST
Subject: Accounting Associate
I’m sitting at my desk staring at your resume. I need to talk to you as soon as possible about this position. You left prematurely on Monday. We didn’t get to discuss any of your qualifications. At your earliest convenience, call me. My direct number is XXX-XXX-XXXX.
Regards,
Essex DePaul
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“Um, Quin?”
Glancing up, I meet Ella’s curious eyes. I was so engrossed and grossed out by this email, I didn’t realize she was talking to me. I’m sure the look on my face has her concerned. It’s one of disgust. This man is trying to ruin my day yet again.
I say, “El, you’re not going to believe this.”
“What’s wrong?”
“This man done sent me an email requesting I call him at my earliest convenience to discuss my qualifications.”
“Who?”
“Essex DePaul! He must be smoking that good stuff if he thinks I’m going to step a foot back up in that building. Ain’t no way.”
“Wait a minute, don’t rule it out,” Ella says, playing devil’s advocate. “He may have had a change of heart.”
