On the morning of my first day at work
(or so I thought), I was bursting with excitement despite a few problems here
and there. For one, I could not raise the bus fare but thanks to my brother I
was at least sure of getting to work.
I had only one pair of shoes at the time, and it had done a lot of mileage. It was the pair I had used during my college days, and the very same one I had used during my stint as a hawker. Our local cobbler knew every stitch on those shoes by heart, having repaired them countless times – often on credit. The soles – on both shoes – had cracked right through, making the shoes to “bite” my feet as I walked. Owing to the cracks, my torn socks were always either dusty or wet depending on the weather. I used to have to “arrange” the shoe soles so as to hide the embarrassing gaping cracks whenever I sat down in public.
I used to have one belt. It was of the kind that used to be bought as part of a trouser which was popular then. Due to over use, it had reduced in length and was down to the last available hole. It was the one thing keeping my ill-fitting trousers on, owing to the fact that I had lost a lot of weight.
It was in this pitiful condition that I reported to work, eager to earn an honest living and uplift my status. I was introduced to the operations director, who was a co-owner of the company. He received me very well and was confident that I could do the work. He did not even interview me as he had a good rapport with my brother and he concluded that my brother could not bring him an unqualified person.
No contracts were signed. Instead I was taken to the parking lot and showed the car I would be driving. It was a beautiful red Daewoo racer with neat upholstery and powerful sound system. I couldn’t wait to drive it. There was one problem though – the engine had previously seized and had been dismantled so the car could not move any time soon. I was sent home with the promise that as soon as it was fixed, I would be sent for, but I should keep checking. I was so discouraged when I went home that day. My bubble had burst.
Proper attire was another challenge. The
few pieces of clothing I possessed had seen better days during my life as a
student. My wife had done a pretty good job of pressing my shirt and trouser to
perfection. The obvious inadequacy was the faded look – and the shoes.
I had only one pair of shoes at the time, and it had done a lot of mileage. It was the pair I had used during my college days, and the very same one I had used during my stint as a hawker. Our local cobbler knew every stitch on those shoes by heart, having repaired them countless times – often on credit. The soles – on both shoes – had cracked right through, making the shoes to “bite” my feet as I walked. Owing to the cracks, my torn socks were always either dusty or wet depending on the weather. I used to have to “arrange” the shoe soles so as to hide the embarrassing gaping cracks whenever I sat down in public.
I used to have one belt. It was of the kind that used to be bought as part of a trouser which was popular then. Due to over use, it had reduced in length and was down to the last available hole. It was the one thing keeping my ill-fitting trousers on, owing to the fact that I had lost a lot of weight.
It was in this pitiful condition that I reported to work, eager to earn an honest living and uplift my status. I was introduced to the operations director, who was a co-owner of the company. He received me very well and was confident that I could do the work. He did not even interview me as he had a good rapport with my brother and he concluded that my brother could not bring him an unqualified person.
No contracts were signed. Instead I was taken to the parking lot and showed the car I would be driving. It was a beautiful red Daewoo racer with neat upholstery and powerful sound system. I couldn’t wait to drive it. There was one problem though – the engine had previously seized and had been dismantled so the car could not move any time soon. I was sent home with the promise that as soon as it was fixed, I would be sent for, but I should keep checking. I was so discouraged when I went home that day. My bubble had burst.
...and I read on.
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