I had been working at Lucky Sam's for about three years as a way to put myself through school. Since I came from a pretty humble background as far as upbringing went, I essentially had no choice but to head into the workforce while simultaneously attending the nearby university. Naturally, it had been a long and grueling road spent dealing with all sorts of customers, but it had also taught me something vital: the importance of standing up for myself and others when I inevitably got promoted to management.
Gone was the nerdy girl who had struggled through highschool, and in her place was someone who had a bit more of her shit together. I couldn't say there weren't remnants of that nerd there, but I was definitely more prone to speak my mind...amongst other things.
My promotion happened on a regular Tuesday after my General Manager, Clarissa, allowed me to sit in on an interview with a potential candidate. After the candidate left, Clarissa turned to me with a small smile. In all my time knowing her, I had only ever seen her fully smile at customers, never her staff and certainly not me. As such, I didn't know what to expect from her.
The soft jingle of a Christmas carol playing on the store's sound system was dulled by the door we sat behind, but still a reminder of the shift we had to return to. Nevertheless, Clarissa leaned back in her chair and tapped her nails against her lips thoughtfully before speaking: "Myra," she said, "How long have you been working here?"
"Just about three years now," I said, not questioning why she would ask. She nodded receptively before she printed something from her desktop, and handed it to me. I could tell right away that it was someone's resume, but I couldn't tell why she was letting me see it.
"I want you to interview this person as your first task in your role as Assistant Manager. How do you feel about that?"
I grappled with what she was saying for a second, realizing that it was both a promotion and a duty that she was already assigning. I didn't want to come off as greedy, but I was adamant on knowing how much of a pay increase I would get. I didn't even have to voice that question, though, because Clarissa was already answering it: "If you take this role, you'll see a four-dollar increase in your hourly pay. I've got a list of interview questions for you to ask, and all you have to do is assess this person's character and write down their answers."
"I--well--yes, I'll do it." It was a no-brainer as I was already working full-time as an associate, and interviewing someone would be nothing compared to the barrage of customers demanding constant service.
"Great, the candidate will be here in ten minutes so study that resume and lean on those questions I have there for you. I'm going to go get a coffee, and when I come back I'll watch the floor."
Ten minutes? I was a little disturbed by how quickly Clarissa had just dumped two things on me at once while she happily skipped away for coffee, but that raise would substantially help with paying for school.
With that, I nodded and looked down at the resume she left me with. I only glanced at it at first, but the name there looked familiar enough to generate a pause from me.
Alexa Moore.
It could have been a coincidence, which was exactly what I wrote it off as in order to focus on the contents of the resume, but I had an unsettling feeling that two worlds were about to collide. There wasn't much to work with on her resume besides a one-month stay at another job, and some volunteer experience at a pet shelter nearby, but truthfully the job as a sales associate wasn't something you needed a lot of experience for in the first place.
The ten minutes I had elapsed, but there were at least five additional minutes added to that because Alexa was late. I looked down at the resume again, and realized that there was a high school listed under the "Education" section.
At the same time that I confirmed what I had hoped wasn't true, that this wasn't the Alexa Moore that I knew, I heard a soft rap at the door to the back office.
I hadn't seen her since we graduated, hadn't heard her voice since the last time she was talking about how flat-chested I was (and still happened to be).
But now, I was about to interview her--not as a high school student, but as a potential boss of hers.
As I tucked my dark hair behind my ears and polished my glasses on the hem of my blouse, I stood up and reminded myself that I was in control for once. There was no one here who would vouch for her, no leery teacher to take her side simply because they found her to be attractive, no student body to cheer her on--just her and I, in a compact office space.
I opened the door.
She was prettier than she had been the last time I saw her, I could admit that; she was still a strawberry blonde, she still had freckles, wore large silver hoop earrings and clear lip gloss, but her features had gone from being adolescent to a little more...grown-up. Her lips looked a little fuller, her breasts had definitely gotten bigger, and from what I could see she had lost a good amount of weight in her midsection while her hips had widened to form a thigh gap.
I had wondered if she would recognize me, and of course she didn't. I was just another person who she had bullied in the grand expanse of other nerds she tortured. I wasn't a vengeful person, but her lack of recognition was triggering, considering that a lot of the things she said had taken a while to stop haunting me, and yet she seemed entirely unaffected.
I realized that I had been standing there like a dolt while she pointedly raised her eyebrows in question, so I stuck my hand out for her to shake: "Hi, Alexa?" I chirped brightly, "I'm Myra Alvarez, I'll be conducting your interview today."
She didn't look me up and down like she would have in high school, but there was still a catty glint in her blue eyes that I knew all too well; her thoughts couldn't have been as innocent as her answering smile was as she shook my hand.
"Hi, Myra. Should I just sit down?"
I stepped aside after letting go of her hand, "Yes, yes, come on in and have a seat."
I was still trying to find my footing while navigating Clarissa's office, but my goal was just to pretend to be as at-home as possible. Slowly, I guided myself down into the chair and nervously pulled on the sleeves of my cardigan before I stopped myself.
Alexa, in a sweater dress that she had paired with a cardigan like mine, settled into the chair opposing the desk--and so the interview began.
It was simple: ask the questions, be as unbiased as possible, and send her away with a job or the false hope of one. I could do this.
"So, first of all," I started, then continued: "Thank you for coming in, Alexa. I just want to ask you a few questions based on your past work experience, and go from there."
"Sure," Alexa nodded, still taunting me with her cornflower blue eyes even if it wasn't intentional. It was already hard not to attach bias to the interview, but even harder with her looking at me like that.
Tensely, I shuffled the papers I had in-hand, and continued on to the first question.
"Can you tell me about some of the duties you had at your last place of work?"
She went through the tedious process of pretty much saying exactly what was on her resume word-for-word, which of course, told me that she was still lacking substance.
Typical.
"Okay," I said, "I did pretty much read all of that on your resume, so maybe just tell me about a specific time when you used your knowledge or expertise to help a customer."
"Um...okay."
Alexa sat back in her chair to think it appeared, and giving her some grace, I decided to busy myself by just...looking at her. Her perfect white teeth were clutching her bottom lip, she had never needed braces in her life, her skin was smooth and naturally dewy like she was always fresh from a shower--and speaking of a shower, she smelled like a sweet garden. I surveyed her hair style, how long her blonde tendrils were and the curtain bangs she had which partially hid her eyes...then my eyes traveled down lower to the front of her dress--the hint of milky, plush cleavage that I saw peeking out. The tops of her breasts were just as soft-looking as her face, the kind of thing you wanted to test out by touching just to liberally squeeze it.
"So, there was this one time this older lady was buying a dress for her granddaughter, and I talked her out of buying something her granddaughter definitely wouldn't want."
I nodded, feeling a slight burn of heat at the nape of my neck as I had just been staring at her cleavage, but she seemed unaware. I had only partially heard her response, but I refused to have her repeat it so I moved onto another question.
Question after question, the room was starting to feel smaller, and her answers were increasingly shallow and increasingly harder to take seriously.
Someone could call it unfair, and if I wasn't biased, I would think the same--but I decided to see just how much of a dumbass she really was with a question that wasn't on the paper:
"Alexa, tell me what makes you a good person, something you've done at work, or in high school, something that makes it clear that you're the kind of person we need interacting with our customers."
"I, um--"
"Just something nice you did for someone outside of your friends and family, something that offered you no benefit."
"I...I guess I...in high school I was--"
So, she was going to go with a story from high school. Of course, as that would be the easiest thing for her to get away with lying about.
Little did she know...
I leaned back in my chair, taking another glance at her fat breasts before I brought my eyes back up.
"In high school," she said, "I was...like, everyone liked me."
"Everyone liked you?" I asked innocently, encouragingly, and she nodded: "Yes, I mean everything I said was pretty much taken as law--but not in a bad way."
A lie.
I could feel my right eye twitching.
Unaware, Alexa almost looked whimsical as she recalled what had been the good days for her, and the worst days for me.
"I would...you know...do good things for people, for teachers."
"Oh, like what?"
