Dreamland

Job Misplacement

I get my layoff notice at work. The company has a program set up to help us find new jobs, so I go down to register with them. I fill out my job experience & contact info then start looking through the second page, which lists prospective offerings. The list is pretty big, and not organized very logically.

Sensing that I seem confused, the woman behind the desk tries to help me: "All employers on the list will give you an interview and a quick walkthrough of the job. If you reach an agreement, they hire you on the spot. If you don't like the job, come back and wait for an interview with another company. I suggest you keep an open mind, check off any jobs you might even be remotely interested in. The more interviews you get, the better chance you'll find something."

Taking her advice I check off a dozen or so likely prospects, then go back to my desk to wait. I get an email shortly thereafter. All it says is "Job Interview at 2pm", and a street address.

I drive to the interview location; a crumbling brick building near the shipping docks down by the river. A peeling painted wooden sign on the front says only "Crimson Brothers", giving no indication of what type of business it is. I park in a lot behind the building and walk in.

"Good afternoon, may I help you?" a fiftyish brunette seated behind a battered oak desk asks.

"I have an appointment for an interview?" I say.

She opens a book, scans down the page: "I don't see anything on the calendar, are you sure it's this afternoon?"

I show her my printed email, then explain about our company's job placement program.

"Oh, those people! Your company is always always screwing up their appointments, I'm not surprised they didn't notify me. Well, as long as you're here we might as well do the interview."

"Will it be with one of the Crimson brothers?" I ask.

"Oh no, there are no "Crimson Brothers", the name is just our owner's little joke," she says, and she chuckles.

She looks at me like she expects me to laugh too, but I don't get the joke.

"Well, lets get on with it." she says. "This is a small company, I'm the receptionist, the interviewer, and I also help with the work out back. We just had a guy quit last week, so we really need to hire someone right away... So, do you have any previous experience with dead bodies?"

Seeing that I look surprised by her question, she says "Didn't you know? This is a mortuary. Well, not so much a real mortuary as a "body shop," she says. "The better Parlors outsource a lot of their "messy" cases to us. We do decent work, and we save them time and money... You didn't sign up for this kind of work, did you?" she asks.

"Uh, no, unless I checked it off by mistake," I reply.

"Well, sorry you made the trip down here for nothing. And sorry for me that your company didn't send someone I could use. We really need the help here."

"Um, would you mind if we continue the interview?" I ask, "I could really use the practice, I haven't had to look for a job in a while... I mean, if you're not too busy..."

"Sure, why not?" she says, "Who knows, you might even take the job."

"I kinda doubt it, " I say, "I'm pretty squeamish about blood and all..."

"Sure, I understand," she says, and she pats the back of my hand like I'm a little kid.

"Well, I can see from your resume that you have no experience in this field, but that's not all that important if you're willing to learn. Are you?"

"Sure!" I reply enthusiatically, in practice as if I were really interviewing for the job.

"Your work history looks fairly conservative," she says. How about your private life? Ever done anything exciting, or do you just sit around the house and watch TV?"

"Well, I took flying lessons for a while... I flew an ultralight, even bungee jumped, once." I say.

"Hmmm... so, you like a little adrenaline once in a while."

"Yeah, I guess so." I say.

"Are you reliable about showing up every day? Can you work independently, without someone always telling you what to do?"

"Yeah, I'm a reliable worker, you can call my last boss and ask him."

"Sounds to me like you'd be a good candidate for this job, if you could just get past the blood thing. Let's do the walkthrough, see if you pass out or puke..."

I'm pretty nervous. I don't really have any intention of taking this job, but don't want to seem like a total wimp, either. "Well, I'm not sure..."

"Oh, come on! It's not that bad. We'll just walk out back and look around a little. If it starts to really bother you, you can leave whenever you want. And there's a bathroom near the lab if you have to throw up..."

"OK, let's do it," I say, trying to be brave.

She takes my hand and leads me into the lab. We put on gloves, smocks, & surgical masks. "What we do here is clean up the bodies, fix the damage, and embalm them. Then we send 'em back to the parlor that contracted us. Their techs put on the makeup & finishing touches."

"Uh, Ok," I say.

"I always start the new guys out with the easy ones first," she says, sliding open a large drawer from the cooler.

There's a dead guy dressed in bloody clothes. Looks to be white, mid-twenties, gunshot wound in the chest. Surprisingly, it doesn't bother me that much to look at him. "Domestic violence, wife shot him," Charlene says. "Can you help me lift him onto the gurney?"

"OK," I reply, grabbing his legs. The blood makes him slippery, and he is surprisingly heavy. I finally manage to help her get him onto the table. "Now I know what they mean about dead weight," I comment.

"See, it's not so bad, you're already joking about it. Here, take this, cut that bloody shirt off him so we can get him cleaned up," she says, handing me a shop knife.

"Be careful! Pull the clothes away from the body when you cut! Try not to put any more holes in him, OK?"

"Sorry," I say, as I finish cutting through the bloody shirt..

We finish undressing him and clean off the blood. Then Charlene peels the backing off a round CD-sized bandaid and slaps it over the hole in the man's chest. "Bullet patch," she says, "We go through 'em by the case here. Good enough for anything that ain''t gonna show once we get clothes back on them."
"Ready to learn embalming?" she asks.

"OK, I guess I can handle it," I reply.

She hands me a fat needle attached to a clear plastic tube that runs into a machine. "Poke that into the big vein in his neck up there," she says, pointing.

I push the needle in easily. "You're a natural," Charlene says.

Surprisingly, none of what I am doing is bothering me like I thought it would.

"So, do you want the job?" she asks?

"Yeah, I guess I do!" I say, surprising myself.

"Good! You're hired!" she says. "Now help me finish this guy up... Next one's a stabbing, we'll get to see how good you are with a needle and thread..."