Free The Part Time People by Tom Lichtenberg, Benhamish Allen Page B

had to work both Thursday night and Saturday all day, and he hated every minute that he had to be out there, serving customers.
     
    I'm just not cut out for this, he repeated to himself every time a new customer walked in, and by repetition convinced himself that it was true. It's not that I don't like them, Joe decided, it's just that I don't like it when we're in these weird relations. I like people when I'm with them on an equal basis, just people, one on one, and it is never that way on the sales floor.
     
    Joe never understood how his brother, as well as his father, had managed to enjoy living out there on the sales floor so much. They seemed to get along just fine with everyone they dealt with. There was never any arrogance or condescension between them and their customers. They treated every customer equally, and every customer left the store satisfied. I just don't have the knack for it, Joe thought. He felt stupid whenever he was out there on the floor, as if he was just doing it all wrong, as if he'd never learn. And so he avoided contact with the customers. He kept to the back, in the office, and did the work that needed to be done back there.
     
    By Monday morning, DeBarrie's hadn’t yet received another application. Joe couldn’t face another long work-week full of customers. He called up David Melenik and made an appointment to see him later that afternoon. He didn't tell Mike about it. Mike didn't bother about that stuff. He let Joe take care of the hiring. Mike just did his best to get along with the part-timers.
     
    With family and friends Joe’s communication skills were okay. He was mostly calm, mostly quiet, but comfortable and easy. Strangers made him nervous, and whenever he got nervous he got strange ideas running through his head. He would ask the strangest questions, and the interviews quickly turned weird. Interviews never failed to bring on his nervousness, there was just something about the whole setup. He would feel forced to ask questions and his questions were never of the standard interview kind.
     
    The office intercom buzzed. It was Gwen. “There's a guy named David Melenik here. He says you're supposed to talk to him.”
     
    “It's okay, send him back.” said Joe.
     
    Joe stood up and paced while waiting for the applicant to reach the office door and knock. He kept clenching and unclenching his hands. The knock came soon enough. And Joe let David in, then asked him to sit down in the large swivel chair. Joe sat down, behind his desk, and picked up David's application. He pretended to read it, but he was actually trying to think of what to say. He never knew how to begin these interviews. He considered a lot of openings, but none of them seemed right. Finally he just blurted out,
     
    “What is all this here about a man who follows you around? What does all that mean?”
     
    It was a mistake, David thought, I should never have come in here. But he was there and he'd just been asked a question, so he had to let it go on, or else get up and run away. But he told himself I will not run away. I'm not running anymore.
     
    “It's like it says.” David said. “He tracks me everywhere I go. I can't get rid of him.”
     
    “Who is he?” Joe inquired.
     
    “I don't know who he is.” David said.
     
    “Why is he following you?” Joe looked puzzled.
     
    “I don't know.” David said. “I think that he just picked me out of a crowd one day, but I don't really know.” David could not look up. His eyes were focused on his shoes, the laces were a little loose. He felt he couldn't go through with this, not again. They never understand, he thought. I don't blame them, really. How could they know what it's like?
     
    “When did all this start?” Joe asked.
     
    “About three years ago.”
     
    Joe studied the application for a moment,
     
    “When you were at the shoe store?” he asked.
     
    “Yes.”David said, without looking up from his shoes, “He ruined that for