A job I'd quite like
employment horror
Human Resources leaned slightly across the desk and discreetly sniffed the air around Pol. She was young to middle-aged, maybe thirty-five, forty, tall and rather muscular, despite a slender frame.
Her attractive amber eyes had a feline cast to them, matching her tabbycat hair and the evenly-bronzed skin with its vague soft halo of auburn down. She was dressed quite conventionally in a lavender gray pantsuit, but somehow seemed attuned to something rougher and more barbaric, like combat gear or raw fur skimpies.
Human Resources seemed satisfied with his odor and went on: ‘Yes, an in-person interview at this early stage of the process is quite unusual. But we're not an ordinary firm, Paul.’
She hesitated a moment, raising one eyebrow slightly. Pol decided not to break up the vibe by correcting her on his name, instead nodding slightly for her to continue. He hoped no stray flakes of dandruff had fallen when he nodded. He’d been extra careful with the medicated shampoo this morning and had washed and rinsed twice, just as it said on the label.
‘No ordinary firm,’ repeated Human Resources. ‘Yessir, or rather, Nossir, not ordinary in any way.’
She paused again. Pol caught the cue this time. ‘In what way?’ he inquired.
‘Well, we don’t like to overuse modern tech, for one thing,’ said Human Resources. ‘That’s why you responded to our newspaper advertisement by traditional mail. Why we insist that applicants use proper headings and signoffs, which you did most commendably, Paul. A dying art, composing letters on paper. Date, mailing address, faithfully, sincerely. It’s also why we asked you to temporarily hand in your cellphone on arrival at our premises. In order to avoid distractions and really get to communicate one-to-one.’
She beamed, revealing small rather pointed teeth, and leaned in to snuffle up his scent once more. Still good, apparently.
‘I notice you don’t have an online presence either,’ said Pol. ‘No website, so socials…’
‘Yes, quite so,’ replied HR. ‘That’s precisely what this job is set to remedy. A post in our brand-new Public Outreach department. Outreach Director, in fact. No, Outreach Vice President. Or Chief Outreach Officer. TBD.’ She snickered, girlish and bashful, and covered her mouth demurely.
‘I’m still not clear on exactly what products or services you provide here,’ said Pol. ‘I searched online for Atreus Inc., and I couldn’t find any listing. The only Atreus I found was a Greek myth about...’
‘Yes, rather a silly name, I admit,’ said Human Resources. ‘A whim of our late founder, I’m afraid. If it were up to me, I’d prefer something more modern-sounding. Family?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Family, Paul.’ Smiling indulgently, speaking more slowly: ’Do you have any family living in the area?’
‘No,’ replied Pol, ‘I just moved here. Graduated this July, looking to get a start somewhere, and I –’
‘Yes, yes, we have all your educational details on your resumé,’ said Human Resources. ‘I’m just looking to get a sense of you as a person.’
Her amber eyes fixed on Pol’s, the pupils seeming to stretch into lozenge-like twin darknesses as her smile widened. Pol supposed it was intended to be warm and welcoming, but it unsettled him in a way that he couldn’t quite determine.
Human Resources went on:
‘As I said, we’re a rather different firm from the regular run of corporate blah-blah-blah. We like to get a real close-up feel for who comes to work for us, get a taste, as it were, of who they really are. Friends? Partner? Little kiddies?’
‘Uh... no,’ answered Pol, catching on faster this time. ‘I just got here, as I said, and I’m quite alone in the city. No friends or family here. No attachments.’
HR ticked a box on her paper and looked up again.
‘Fine. I gather you share an apartment. Did you inform your roommate that you were coming here today?’
’Excuse me?’
‘Paul,’ she sighed. ‘Will basic communication be a problem between us? You know, it’s somewhat essential for the position we’re interviewing for this morning. Simple, basic back-and-forth, you know, communication?’
The tone was sharp, the feline eyes narrowed to a penetrating stare. She sniffed again and seemed to detect something sour in the air around him.
‘Er, no,’ stammered Pol. ‘I understand perfectly. No, I didn’t tell my roommate I was coming here today.’
’Excellent,’ purred Human Resources, and relaxed into her seat. Her smile widened and Pol saw... did he see… extra teeth?
Just then a door opened and a man walked into the room carrying a hypodermic and a tube. He looked quite like Human Resources: broad and muscled, and with the same feline amber eyes, but with a magnificent mane of long graying hair and and a wide mouth of strong yellow teeth. He brought with him a musty scent of something Pol had smelled before but couldn’t remember where.
‘Blood type?’ asked HR, brisk now. ‘Chronic diseases, infirmities, congenital conditions? It’s for our health insurance plan. Don’t try to conceal anything, Paul, because the bloodwork will reveal it right away.’
Pol gasped as the man inserted a needle into his forearm.
‘Ow! I – that is, I don’t have any – hey, are you allowed to do this?’
The man extracted the needle and didn’t bother placing a gauze or any alcohol on the pinprick. A thin trickle of blood dripped slowly down Pol’s forearm. ‘You know, I’m not altogether comfortable with this, you really should have asked perm–’
‘Shut the fuck up, Paul,’ said HR, quite matter-of-factly, as the man standing beside and above Pol held a strong hand to his shoulder, pressing him down into his seat. The man leaned across the desk and handed the tube of extracted blood to HR, who lifted it to her mouth and swigged it, lapping a flat tongue against her thin lips.
‘B rhesus-negative, rare and exquisite,’ she said. ‘No taint of any kind. I really must congratulate you on your robust state of health, Paul. So hard to find these days among young people... just like your exquisite penmanship.’
‘It’s Pol, P-O-L, not Paul, you asshat!’ yelled Pol, surprising himself with the violence of his resentment. He wondered if he’d screwed up his chances after doing so well up to this moment.
‘Pol, Paul... whatever,’ said HR, waving a blasé hand with long fine fingernails. ‘Not important right now. What matters is that you’ve passed with flying colors, young man. You are the perfect candidate for the position. Congrats.’
Human Resources shared a smile with the burly mane-man pressing down on Pol’s right shoulder. The room was filled with an iron smell, iron and cloves, sweet and bitter, the faint sugar of blood and rust and the thick dry sourness of dried sweat and old cracked bone.
A time went by, a second or an hour. Things changed.
‘I have to agree with you,’ said Pol, trying to restore himself to calm, to get back to normal, to be in a typical employment selection process on a regular sunny morning, ‘that this really is a most unusual company. And you’ve gotta be the most extraordinary Human Resources Officer I’ve ever met.’
‘Human Extraction Resources, in fact,’ said HER. She beamed wide, and her extra teeth were on full display now. ‘Rogelio will take you through for staff induction now.’ She waved her hand vaguely at the side-door exit.
The mane-man grunted and lifted the successful candidate to his feet. The man started to purr deep and low as he hauled him toward the exit. The odor coming from his fur was rich and heady, and Pol recalled it now, from a long-ago trip to the zoo with his mother when he was just a small boy.
Funny how smells will stick in your memory for so long and yet be so hard to place. And when you place them, all the other memories that flood in. The wide yawn of the pride’s alpha, the thick mane, the long sharp yellowed teeth. That fug, so dangerous and so alluring. Mother’s jacket, the smell of safety, of home…
‘I hope you’ll enjoy the fulfillment of contributing to our firm’s growth moving forward,’ said Human Extraction Resources, standing and waving her fine nails at him in farewell. ‘Only a very few make it through our exacting selection process. You should feel proud to be such a prime specimen, Paul. A true prime cut who’s made the cut. Congrats again,’ she said by way of goodbye.
The exit door slammed behind them and now the iron smell got thicker and much more familiar as Pol was pushed down a narrow corridor, a long hallway lit by bright bright fluorescent light. A sound of chomping and tearing came as if from far away, but getting closer with each step.
‘Next!’ called out Human Extraction Resources. ‘So pleased to meet you. Have you had any difficulty getting here this morning? Tell me all about yourself.’
====== [ A JOB I’D QUITE LIKE // END ] ======
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