Petra DeKant had said that she would call me over the weekend to tell me
exactly when I should show up to my new job. I waited by the phone but
no ring.
Finally on Monday I called myself. "Can I tell Ms. DeKant what this is
in regard to?" Jules said.
|
 |
"It's about the Junior Designer position," I said. "If you're looking
for a job you'll have to contact our Human Resources department," Jules
said rather bruskly. "Ms DeKant is--"
 "No," I interrupted. "I'm the Junior Designer. I'm Phoebe,
remember?" He didn't, but he said that he would pass the message along
to Petra.
Hmmm.
Another couple of days passed and so I called again. Same crap with
Jules not letting me through to Petra. But then I had an aneurism, or a
solipsism, or whatever you call it when your brain farts out an
unpleasant thought:
Maybe Jules, lowly indentured phony Eurotrash serf that he is, had hoped
he would be the one to get the Junior Designer position. Maybe he's not
sending my messages through to Petra because he wants to take the job
for himself!
As they say in the cartoons, I better do something and quick!
|
