How to Make a Human

It was on a Tuesday, two weeks after my phone call, when I received a call from Fat Tony. It was two days after that when I had an interview scheduled with Fat Tony at his pizzeria. It was five minutes after the interview started when I realized how stupid I was.

Fat Tony’s description was accurate. He was fat. He didn’t help matters by tucking in his shirt, making his peach polo shirt work like a hammock for his stomach. He had graying black hair and a hairline that was receding by the second. His whiskery chin made him look haggard and unkempt.

“So, I get this call from Rob, and he says to me, ‘Hey, Tony, I got a nice girl who is in need of a job.’ I suppose that’s you?” he said, rubbing his earlobe and leaning back in his chair.

“I hope so.” I responded, looking around the restaurant. The interview was at 3:30, so there weren’t many people there except for a few people having a late lunch. There were stain glass hanging lights and deep red walls. Cliché black and white photos of Italy hung on the wall. It looked like almost every Italian restaurant I’ve ever been in.

Fat Tony nodded his head and leaned forward over the table so that he could read the clipboard full of questions he had. “So let’s start off with the basics. Do you think it’s better to be liked or respected by the customers?”

“I feel like the two go hand in hand in this line of work. You can’t have one without the other,” I answered smoothly. I think that was the most articulate I’ve ever been. I sounded so professional. Tony nodded approvingly and wrote down something on his clipboard.

“And what kind of experience do you have in this ‘line of work’?” he asked making air quotes with his fingers. Ah, crap. Mayday, mayday!

“Well, I um… I don’t actually have any waiting experience.” I answered sheepishly.

Tony’s eyebrows raised slightly and he readjusted his seating slightly. “What experience do you have?”

I scrunched my skirt in my hands and wiped my sweaty hands off on my jacket. Because I had no time to change between school and the interview, I was wearing my school uniform. “I, uh, I’ve never actually had another job before.”

Tony began scribbling again.

“So, you must be pretty confident in your ability to deal with people if you’re applying for this job with an empty resume.”

“Well, it’s not exactly empty. There are some babysitting and housework jobs on there.”

“But still, not much. Would you consider yourself charismatic?”

I took a little bit of time to think. At this point there was a 98% chance that I wouldn’t get the job, so I figured I could take a risk. Plus, maybe he’d give me points for honesty.

“Well sir, do you want to know the honest answer or the interview one?”

“I guess every boss would like to hear the truth occasionally.”

“Alright then.” I took a deep breath. “I am just now developing social skills. In fact, most people who know me consider me socially handicapped. It’s not that I can’t read social cues, I just generally don’t know how to respond to them.”

“So, why choose such a social job?”

“Well, sir, I think this job is so appealing to me because it forces me to not only interact with people, it forces me to react properly. I need to be pushed out of my comfort zone, otherwise I’ll wallow in it.”

“Why so awkward?”

“I’ve been raised by absent parents and German elders who think God is the only friend I need. I need job experience and forced human contact to keep me from becoming a hermit.”

“Is that all?”

“I think so. I guess there is also the obvious need of money that drove me to find a job in the first place. I know it doesn’t sell me as a model employee or even one with potential, but um… I’m honest.” I paused, “Oh, and while I’m not a quick learner, I’m not particularly slow, so that could be a plus.”

Tony didn’t seem to think it was a plus, because he was shaking his head and writing something on his clipboard.

“Well, I’ll get back to you.”

“Thank you for your time,” I smiled and stood up. I walked out of the restaurant and into the bright light, wondering how to make the walk home without throwing myself into oncoming traffic. I sulked home, ignoring an irritating wind that sprayed mist on my face and coated me in a thin layer of water. Instead I focused on what went wrong in the interview. It was such a broad subject, it was hard to pinpoint my downfall. I narrowed it down to about the part where I opened my mouth.

The rest of the week was uneventful. I would go as far as to say dull. Well, dull in comparison to my earlier week. It was on the Wednesday after school when I received the phone call from Tony.

“Bobbie, phone!” Oma called from the kitchen.

I galloped down the stairs, excited that, ohmigod, a friend might want to talk to me. I had hung out with Shane at lunch all week, with Demetri tagging along, as per usual. Or, you know, I was the one tagging along, but I liked to look at it the other way.

“Hey, Bobbie, this is Tony.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Hello, Tony!”

“Bobbie, it’s a message you nitwit,” Oma hissed, listening into my nonexistent conversation. “Hush up and listen.”

I waved Oma to be quiet because I have the attention span of a squirrel and I didn’t know who to listen to.

“--the job. Sorry, you’re just not what we’re looking for right now. But, hey, you’re a great gal and when I need another employee, you’ll hear from me.”

I took the phone away from my ear and stared at it. “How do I make it repeat the message?”

“Listen to the options and press the button,” Oma answered, leaning against the counter and watching me intently. I think she was actually interested in the possibility of me getting a job. I pressed the phone to my ear again and listened for the ‘repeat message’ option. I replayed the message and waved at Oma to be quiet even though she wasn’t talking.

I listened again and yes, I really was not hired.

I slammed the phone down to the receiver and stared at Oma.

“Well?” she asked.

“I’m pretty sure I didn‘t get the job.”

“You think?”

“I do.”

“Oh, Bobbie, I‘m sorry!”

“It’s alright, I guess.”

“Well, at least you had an interview! That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think I’d get the job anyway.”

“Well, it’s great that you tried. I’ll make you a celebratory dinner! You like spaghetti, right?”

“Um, yes.”

“Perfect. That is what I’ll make.” Oma nodded her head resolutely.

“Uh, thanks, Oma.” I smiled and pretended that I didn’t see the meatballs defrosting earlier when I was skulking around the kitchen looking for a snack. She planned on having spaghetti and meatballs long before I got the job.

--

By the time Friday afternoon rolled around, Derek and I were accustomed to working together. It’s not like we were great friends or anything, but we worked well.

“We could have a poster that’s like full of random dental supply. Like the basics; toothbrush, toothpaste, and floss. And then maybe like additional stuff like water picks and… stuff. Shit, I don’t know.” My suggestions were topnotch.

“We could also have pictures of, like, gross teeth and pictures of… good teeth.” Derek’s suggestions weren’t better though.

“I thought doing oral hygiene would be easy, but it’s freaking impossible to expand,” I sighed.

“Haha, yeah, not our best call,” Derek agreed.

“Yeah, well, on the bright side it requires no outside work. We’re basically done, now we just have to kill time.”

“True, true, so what are you up to this weekend?” Derek asked, drawing cubes on his paper.

“Eh, I don’t know. Probably hanging out with Shane or Bear or Ben… I don’t really know actually.”

“Well, you guys should come to my party this weekend. Bear will probably be there. I don’t know, you hang out with Demetri, right? I think he’s coming. But you, Ben, and Shane should come.”

I was quiet. Was I just invited to a party?

“Yeah, that would be neat,” I said as casually as possible. “What’s the occasion?”

“My parents are out of town. They took my brother to Disney World.”

“What the fuck? Why didn’t you go to Disney World? That would be awesome.”

“Well, yeah, but I already miss a lot of school from football and shit, so I thought I’d stay.”

“Oh, yeah of course…”

“Also I throw the most bitchin’ ass parties ever. My house is kind of in the mountains and it’s like right on the outskirts of party patrol.”

“That’s awesome. I’ll definitely come by.” I grinned. I was pissed at my use of the word “definitely.”

“Nice, what’s your drink? I’ll see if I can get it,” Derek offered.

“Sprite.” I thought about how stupid that answer was. “And vodka. Sprite and vodka.”

“What kind?”

“Sprite zero,” I answered. “Oh, and… vodka with alcohol.”

“Haha, right. I’ll just get some Prestige or Smirnoff.”

“Nice,” I pretended to understand what he was talking about. “So, I can bring anyone or is this just a plus one thing?”

“Invite anyone, man, this thing is going to be fucking huge.”

“So when is this again?”

“This Saturday.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, you can make it right?”

“Yes, I will make it happen for sure.” I smiled as the bell rang and Derek and I began picking up our work. Well, lack of work, really.

“See you this weekend!” Derek waved goodbye and sauntered down the hallway. I received a couple of weird looks from people leaving class with us. I think they were as shocked as I was that I was invited to his party.

“Bobbie!”

I looked down the other side of the hall to see Bear waving at me and walking with a pleased looking Ben. I practically skipped towards them because I was so excited over my plans.

“Hey! What are you up to this weekend?” I asked, mainly so I could brag about my invite.

“I think Ben and I are going to Derek’s party,” Bear responded. I nodded my head even though I ignored her response.

Ben nodded, “It should be chill.”

“Neat, neat. Well, I’m going to Derek Banderton’s party,” I boasted before I recognized what they said. “The exact party you’re talking about. I was invited.”

“Nice! Derek’s party’s are freaking nuts. He doesn’t have like any neighbors so there is no flipping shit over the cops,” Bear smiled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Yes! That’s good because I can be hella paranoid,” I turned to Ben, “Ben, you can be my plus one!”

“Haha, thanks but I’m already going with Bear.”

“I honestly can’t even-- wait, wait, wait. What? Did you say you two are going together? Like on a date?” It took me a while to recognize what he said.

“No,” Ben laughed. “Just as friends.” But he shot a charming smile at Bear, “If I took her on a date I wouldn’t take her to house party. We’d have like a picnic and mini golf or something… so plan for that in the future, Bear.”

Bear blushed and swatted his arm. “Do you guys need a ride home today?”

Ben leaned back on heels slightly so that Bear couldn’t see his face and subtly gave me wide eyes and a face that I couldn’t entirely read.

“I-uh, I think so--” I stumbled through watching Ben’s face as he widened his eyes more. “Not. I think not.

“Give Ben a ride. I’m sticking around a little longer because I have to talk to Mr. Gert. So yeah. You guys go though. I’ll pick up Mae.”

“Alright, sounds good,” Bear nodded. “So, see you this weekend? We should work something out so we drive together. I call not DD!”

“Me too!” I agreed even though I didn’t know what DD was. Bear pumped her fist in the air and gave me a high five.

Ben moaned, “This is bullshit.”

“Ha! For you, maybe,” I mocked while backing up to let Ben have his flirting time, still disregarding the fact that I had no clue what the eff we were talking about. I waved goodbye and loafed down the hall to my locker, dropping off some books because I had nothing better to do.

As I walked off I could hear Ben not so subtly extending his time with Bear, “I’m tweaking for a slushie, man.”

Bear laughed her bell like laugh, “What kind of crack head terminology is that?”

I rolled my eyes but smiled because they were like a classic high school dream team: athletic, good looking, clever, funny, and nice. It was almost annoying that they could only know each other for a week and already be capable of flirting and hanging out one on one, but I wasn’t going to hate on their social grace. Well, I was, but I wouldn’t let it change my opinion of them.

I saw Demetri walking out of Mr. Gert’s classroom, hastily stuffing papers into his backpack.

“What’s that?” I asked, walking up to him and gesturing to the papers, ignoring a customary, uncomfortable greeting.

“Just some stuff for scholarships,” he replied, swinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Like science stuff? Are you good at science?”

“No more than most other subjects.”

“Aren’t you good at most other subjects?”

He shrugged.

“So, guess what?” I asked.

“What?”

“I was invited to Derek Banderton’s party! Me. You can be my plus one, if you want. I can invite whoever I want!” I bragged.

“So it’s not really a plus one?” he laughed.

“Well, I have an infinite amount of plus ones and you can be one.”

“Heh, well thanks, but I was already invited.”

“That’s cool, I was just inviting to be nice,” I nodded. It was partially true. I didn’t care if I hung out with Demetri. Demetri gave me a long hard look before:

“Eh, fuck it. I’ll be one of your ‘plus ones.’ Why not?” he nodded resolutely. “We can go together.”

“Wait, what? That’s not necessary. You already were invited. Plus, I’ll probably go with Bear and Ben,” I stumbled, “ Plus, you don’t need to pity-accept my pity-invitation.”

“Nah, let’s do this. You were the one who said I needed to stop acting like a ’little bitch,’ right? So, yeah, we’ll go together.”

“Gah, that’s really not necessary. How about--”

“No, shut the fuck up. You invited me. You can’t go back on your invitation.”

“What invitation?” Shane asked from behind me. I jumped a little and turned around.

“Shane! I was invited to Derek Banderton‘s party! You can be my plus one!”

“Seriously? Check you out making friends and shit!” he gave me a high five. “Fuck yeah, I’ll be your plus one!”

Ah, dear Shane. The only person who cares that I was invited to a party. The only person who hasn’t slaughtered my “plus one” terminology,

“Oh, fuck, wait, I can’t,” Shane sighed putting his forehead on my shoulder, which was probably really difficult for him, what with him being a giant and all.

“What? Why?” I asked, more panicky than I should have been.

“I’m still grounded. Remember the whole ‘I-took-a-shit-ton-of-drugs’ fiasco?”

“Oh… right. That sucks,” I mumbled. “Maybe we can just hang around your house and watch movies or something?”

“Nah, go. Have fun. I’ll probably re-play the original Tomb Raider or something.”

“I’ll call you this weekend,” Demetri nodded.

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t fucking do anything. I’m like Anne Frank,” Shane huffed.

“Oh, Shane, that comparison is not okay,” I responded shaking my head.

“And it’s far from the truth,” Demetri added.

“Well, maybe, but still. I bet this is how Ariel feels.”

“Okay, closer and less offensive, but not quite.”

“Eh, whatever, I have all weekend to think about it,” Shane sighed forlornly. Originally we had all thought Shane’s grounding wasn’t too bad, but Shane was getting more bitter and it definitely showed.

“Can I get a ride home?” Shane asked Demetri.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Demetri fished his keys out of his pocket and turned to me, “So I guess I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”