Andrew turned on the grammar checker and then fixed the mistakes in his cover letter. It looked good to him.

Dear Mr. Roman,

I would like to apply for the job position for the antique shop at Elm Street. I have never worked as a clerk, but I have done babysitting for the past five years, so I know how to bargain.

Enclosed with this letter is my CV. I have also added some recommendations from past employers. I am motivated to see your business grow and to work hard towards that goal. Furthermore, I have won some history competitions back in school. I have also enclosed the diplomas I got from there.

Kind regards,

Andrew Jackson.

Andrew’s blue eyes scanned over the letter one last time before he checked if he had attached everything he had spoken of with the letter. Deciding that there was nothing for it, he sent the letter and smiled.

Still, he couldn’t keep all his eggs in a single basket. He opened the job searching site and hunted for something that could accept just a high school diploma.

He wanted to go to University, really, he did. Or, study remotely. His dream was to become an archeologist and go to Egypt and find a never-before-seen pyramid. Well, he supposed it would have been seen, back in the ancient times.

But that was besides the point. In his dreams, he would find the ancient burial chamber of the pharaoh and the marauders wouldn’t have gotten to it first. The treasure would still be inside, and he would make headlines about how professional he had been the entire time. About how he spend all the time in the heat and worked hard by searching in the sand, even when people told him that he couldn’t find anything where he looked.

Andrew’s eyes were twinkling as he was lost in thought. He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his ginger hair. Yes, dreams were nice, but he needed money for university. A lot of it. He didn’t want student’s loans.

The reality of his situation came down on him like a bucket of cold water. It would be hard. Maybe, he would just afford community college in the end. But, he would become an archeologist. He saw that he had a new message in his email and wondered from whom. Then, he saw the sender.

 [email protected] stared back at him. He checked to see if his email had not been sent. However, no, there, in the about section, was a RE: Job Application Andrew Jackson.

Andrew clicked on the email and began to read.

Dear Mr. Jackson,

Boy, I saw your picture in the CV. Andrew, why didn’t you swing by the shop? I could have interviewed you right away. We know each other, after all. So, the day came? You are on your own?

I will make sure you get a job by the end of the week, mark my words. You never bargained for what you bought, but then again, you were always too polite. We will check out if you have what it takes to be a cashier.

Come by before six pm. I close shop then. You are the first person who hasn't sent a joke application so far, so your chances are good. You have no idea how close I was too tearing out my hair yesterday. Fake numbers, fake email addresses. Brats, the lot of them.

I do hope you can start right away. I need someone to start from tomorrow. That is, if I approve you. But, I repeat, you will have a job by the end of the week. I still remember you babysitting my grandson and turning the rascal’s behavior around only in a month.

Regards,

Karl Roman.

Andrew’s fist found itself in the air, and he managed to clamp his mouth shut before he whopped with joy. He got an interview. Minutes after sending his application. This was like a dream come true. Maybe this job was for him? He hoped so.

Looking down at his clothes, he figured he couldn’t go to an interview in them. He went to his duffle bag and rummaged for his only suit. It was bought from a second hand store and didn’t fit perfectly, but it came with a tie.

Now, his shoes were new. He had to spurge on genuine leather so that he could use them for a couple of years. He wore them everywhere, even though they were official looking. These shoes were the most comfortable he had ever worn, and so he didn’t feel like buying other ones.

He changed and stared in the mirror. His ginger hair looked like a mess, like always. With a sigh, he picked up his brush and tried to tame it. The curls simply refused to look any less wild, and he gave up after a while.

He finished everything with some cologne and picked his laptop bag, leaving the laptop behind, and placed a notebook and a pen inside. Just in case he needed them.

Then, he was off. He made it back to the antique shop in record time. As it turns out, it was just three streets away from his apartment. Which was good news for Andrew. It meant he wouldn’t have to spend money for a buss card.

When he neared the shop, he nervously ran his hand over his ginger curls and entered the shop when he reached it. A bell chimed merrily and there was an old man behind the counter.

When Karl Roman saw him, he smiled and waved him over. Andrew made his way over as fast as he could without running and tried to force some of his nerves to still. But, he knew that it all showed on his face.

“Andrew, you are fast. Just as I expected from you. You didn’t have to send me the recommendations. The entire town knows that you are a good worker,” Andrew smiled bashfully and chuckled. This was a good start. He was positive that this could work.