Sandra sighed and signed into her email account. It had been six months since the law offices at Carp, Strawn and Dinsmore had declared bankruptcy and been forced to let her go. Since then she had been unable to find work despite applying everywhere she could think non-stop. She clicked through her emails and was not surprised to see that there was no news, good or bad, there. She noticed that her spam folder said there was one message. Not having anything better to do, she clicked into her spam folder.
The subject line read: Looking for work? Try Procrustes Employment Agency, Inc. Success guaranteed or your money back!
She read through the email, and decided that trying them out couldn't hurt. She dialed the toll free number at the bottom of the email, and quickly set up a meeting with them.
* * *
It was the next day, and Sandra was sitting nervously in a waiting room waiting for her name to be called. She paged through one of the waiting room magazines, only half paying attention to its contents.
"John Ackerman?" said a well-dressed man, coming out from the door behind the receptionist desk.
Sandra saw a boy who couldn't have been older than 19 drag his eyes away from the phone he had been absorbed in, and stand up. He pocketed the device, and followed the well-dressed man back into his office. Sandra couldn't help but be a little judgemental of the kid. He had been wearing a beanie and a t-shirt, and his pants were so baggy she was impressed he was able to walk unobstructed. She wondered what kind of parents would raise a kid thinking it was okay to wear something like that to what was essentially a job interview.
Sandra had finished her magazine and had been waiting for several minutes when the two reemerged. The man whose name Sandra vaguely remembered as John Ackerman strode out confidently. He was dressed in nice collared shirt, and well-fitted dress pants. Something about this seemed odd to Sandra, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
"Sandra Blanche?"
Sandra stood up, and walked into the office. The man closed the door behind her and sat down at the large desk in the center of the room. He motioned toward the chairs, and Sandra took a seat. She looked approvingly around the office, which was well-organized and uncluttered. She appreciated fellow neat freaks.
"Ms. Blanche, I'm Damien Smith, I'm going to be the one working on your case. If it's alright with you, I'd like to go over the information you provided over the phone."
"That's fine by me."
"You said you were 28, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"You're looking for work at a law firm?"
"I am."
