The hiring manager took me for an extended interview over burgers and beers.
The bar had televisions on every wall. A game was on. He hadn’t looked at it once.
“I know your type,” he said after a long pause.
“What’s your grade point anyway? Three-something?”
“Three seven, actually.”
“Yeah.”
He took a bite.
“Doesn’t matter. My son … he’s like you. Too smart for his own good too—never fights for his grades, just shows up and gets them. Know what I mean?”
I felt my face go warm.
“What I’m saying is … look. Thanks for coming out, I’ll buy you another beer, but we’re done here.”
~
I walked home that night with my head down.
Bicycle taxies strolled the street—music blaring, neon lights flashing.
Parties spilled out of doorways.
Groups of students moved between the bars.
Laughter from somewhere in the distance.
I kept walking.
His words bounced in my head. The feeling of the glass—the way I put it down afterward—carefully, like I was trying not to make a sound.
I needed that job. Any job.
I’d always had one—ever since I was twelve. Now summer was approaching.
My major, Construction Management, was one of the few fields where internships were still paid—well paid, at that.
All my friends had one.
The recruiters came to the school, weekly.
PowerPoint.
Dinner.
Interviews.
I’d met with dozens. Interviewed with half.
This feeling was familiar.
My experience as an electrician made me overqualified for most of the entry-level positions they offered.
My grades apparently made me some kind of academic menace.
A few weeks ago, I’d started looking at what else I could do with the summer.
A backup.
Travel maybe.
Europe had been on my mind all semester.
~
My apartment was quiet when I got home. The rooms were dark—my roommates either out or asleep.
The floorboard squeaked under the carpet as I walked upstairs.
I turned my computer on. Checked my email.
The cost had come down. Round-trip to London for $277.
Four weeks abroad—the flight left during finals week.
I looked at the price again, my mouse hovering over the “buy” button.
Then I clicked it and went to bed.
The next morning, I opened Excel, and got to work.