They paid the most, despite offering the position I wanted the least. Office clerk. I showed up for orientation with all the enthusiasm of a guy about to get his nuts waxed. Michael said I was being a brat. David called me ungrateful. Nunzio agreed that the job was lame but cheered me on by saying it would be insanely easy. Not expecting to land a full-time position within the first month of my job hunt, I didn’t have much to wear. The office was business casual, but Michael insisted I borrow clothes from Nunzio so I didn’t go into work wearing jeans and sneakers like a jibaro. Before my first day, I’d snagged some items that would tide me over for a couple of weeks, and now I was trying not to tug at the collar of my button-down as the HR assistant showed me around the office. It was, simply speaking, a stereotype. “It’s not the fanciest space,” Sandra confided. No shit. The walls were varying shades of gray, puke-green, and off-white. No ornamentation, artwork, or plant life.
