Tag Archives: Stories

The Interview – Pt. 3

Julia was walking rapidly. She was passing a park, scattered with picnickers, children and dogs running. Halfway through the park, she stopped herself and laid a hand on a nearby tree for support. This is when it hit her. She could not remember what she was walking away from. Was she escaping from something? Someone? Was she going somewhere?

It had been exactly two years since she had had the last blackout. They had started when she was nineteen, back in college. She had gone to a party with her roommate, Lucy Frees. Julia didn’t want to go to the party, but Lucy insisted. Almost begged her. Lucy wanted to see Jason, one of the frat boys hosting the party. But she didn’t want to show up to a party alone. This is why Julia had to come with her.

Julia remembered going to the party and having a few drinks. But after that, everything was a mystery to her. The next thing she knew about was waking up in Lucy’s bed, her own bed undone. Lucy hadn’t been there when she had woken up. She found out later that Lucy had died after being hit by a car when she was walking home the previous night. Julia always tried not to think about what happened that night. It wasn’t the guilt that bothered her. She knew that if she had taken better care of her roommate, she would probably still be alive. What really bothered her was not knowing what had happened.

Two years had been the longest she had gone without a blackout. She chuckled. And I was stupid enough to think I was cured, she thought- the bitterness overcoming her. She sat with her back against the tree. What was the last thing I did? After some effort, she was able to bring back the image of Leo Tanzini and his office. Right, he offered me a job! Her excitement was obvious. But what happened then? She examined herself and noticed that she was wearing casual jeans and a purple blouse. She certainly had not worn this to a job interview. She then remembered he had offered her lunch. Was she going to meet him? Was she late? Is that why she was walking so quickly? But nothing further came to mind.

“Christ, I’m pathetic!” She muttered. Defeated, she went home.

To be continued…

The Interview

The Interview – Pt. 2


The Interview – Pt. 2

Julia was stunned by his question. Upset wasn’t quite how she felt, but it came pretty close to it. Was she giving out a bad vibe this early in the interview? She thought of the single can she had left earlier on the table. This wasn’t the time to be bitter. She needed to please this stranger somehow, someway.

“Disappointed is more like it.” She was shocked to hear these words come out of her mouth. Was she out of her mind? This was certainly not the way to try to please this man. But then again she had never performed successfully in that department. Hence the divorce. Marco Ramos, her ex-husband, made this very clear to her. “You’re not the girl I married,” he said with suitcase in hand. He was quick to leave. Didn’t even bother with counseling or giving her a second chance. A quick man; even on the times she didn’t want him to be.

Leo stood up. This couldn’t be a good sign. She must have offended him. This was the only interview she had been able to get. And here she was, ruining it before it had even formally started.

“Can you start Monday?” He said monotonously. Julia thought she’d heard wrong. Why would he be hiring her? He hadn’t even asked about her qualifications, or why she was unemployed. The situation had become a blur to her. A recent headache and a stomach-ache were unforgiving reminders that she hadn’t had enough food to function properly. Perhaps she had started to hallucinate.

“I beg your pardon?” She asked in a last attempt to regain control of the situation. Leo examined her with concerned eyes. There was more about this man than his stern composure.

“I wasted enough of your time when I made you wait in the lobby for an appointment I was late for.” This was as close to an apology as Julia was going to get. “But you waited. Which tells me you are determined to get this job.” True, but that still didn’t explain why he’d hire her like this. “I asked if you were upset. Most people would have lied to get on my good side. But you didn’t. You were honest. Even if that would have cost you the job. You put your values first.” Little did he know that Julia hadn’t intended to be honest. She wasn’t thinking straight. Her act of nobility had actually been nothing but a mistake on her part.

“But you don’t know anything about me, or my qualifications!” She protested. Unbeknownst to her, she was now sticking to her values and protesting this man’s good gesture. She didn’t think that his assessment was valid. How could she? People aren’t this kind anymore. Why her?

“I know enough. The rest is well explained in your resume and your recommendations. No need to repeat what you have already provided. But if you feel that’s not enough for me to hire you, you can join me for lunch and tell me more about yourself.” Leo hit a nerve. To Julia, this sounded like an advance. And to think that he made her believe for a moment that there was something special about her. Of course not. This man wanted something from her that she wasn’t prepared to give him, or anyone else for that matter.

To be continued… 


Bus Rides to Different Worlds

I don’t know how much you know about UCLA… other than the fact that our football team still sucks. Despite the fact that this isn’t our brightest hour (see: Education cuts in California), there are some things that still amaze me about this school.

UCLA is indeed a multicultural school. If you walk on campus on any given day, you will probably hear at least three different languages spoken- and after 10 steps in any direction, you may have probably crossed the paths of at least two students that come from a very different place than yours.

Sometimes, when my wife’s break from class and my lunch break from work coincide, and when I’m more than happy to give up my lunch readings to see her, I take the University Shuttle to campus and meet her at the cafeteria behind the law school. Since she only gets thirty minutes, we eat quickly, but I treasure every minute as if it were an hour. Once our meal is over I hurry back to the bus stop. And then I wait impatiently for the shuttle, as I alternate looking at my watch and the corner where the shuttle turns my way.

Once in the bus, a ride to different worlds begin. Last week’s in particular, there were three groups around me. I sat right next to the back exit, because unlike most of the people around me, my trip wasn’t as long. There were two girls sitting across from me. They were speaking Russian. I had heard my wife enough to know which language, but not enough to know what they were saying. They caught me staring, and I smiled shyly, wishing I could have asked where they came from and what classes they were taking.

The guys in front of me, three of them, were speaking French. They were talking about the beach, I knew that much- “Plage.” But their words were too quick for my slow brain, and I couldn’t ever catch more than a word or two- but never full sentences.

A couple behind me, speaking Japanese, seemed to be arguing about something. I didn’t catch anything they said because I have never had any contact with the language… Perhaps something I could correct in the future. Whatever it was, he talked more than she did. Before I knew it, my stop was sneaking upon me.

I stepped outside the bus and I thought of all these people I’ll never meet. I’ll never know their stories, or their classes- yet we were still sharing a ride, a space together, for about 15 minutes…

-MTO


Time to Reveal My Identity?

I don’t really remember much about why we decided to blog anonymously. I do know it had something to do with the idea that our story could be anyone else’s (as far as LGBT rights go), but even if unconsciously, it probably had something to do with protecting our safety too (see: Hate Crimes).

If you don’t know it already, my biggest dream ever has been to write a book (well, really more than one). This is the case because I was a bookworm when I was little (and even still today). I didn’t have the sweetest childhood (though my mother and grandmother’s were worse than mine), and books were my only window to some sort of freedom. I knew then that I wanted to write stories for other people too.

Via thewashingtonnote.com

Now the tricky thing is that even though being a writer would be a great thing, it isn’t the only thing I would want to do- hence why I don’t pursue it as a full-time thing. Rather I’d like it to be my outlet from something else… in my case, lawyering. Anyhow I did set up this ridiculous goal when I was little to write a novel by the time I graduated from high school. That didn’t happen, of course.

I have been writing things every now and then but nothing ever becomes something. I did write a screenplay a few years ago but after my third draft, I realized I didn’t like it anymore, and put it aside. Now with school and work, I hardly have time for anything. So I haven’t tried any writing in a while.

Today though, for no reason, I began to write a story on receipt paper. After using two long strips of it, I moved on to a notebook. And then somehow I had my story going. I realized that my problem was having unrealistic goals. This time I haven’t any. I am only writing, and maybe shooting for a short story. If anything else comes out of it, then I will take it- and if not, I’ll just keep trying.

However, I will tell you this. If something (as I really do think in my heart that this is something) comes out of this, and I get published (even self-published), I will have no other choice than to reveal the real name of the author behind these words to my lovely readers. After all, how else will I advertise myself?

-MTO


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