Let's Make Up

Molly looked down and smoothed out the wrinkles on her shirt. It was cold out, almost autumn, but she felt over dressed and sweaty in her turtle neck and blazer. She'd been so free in the last couple months that she had been able to forget about work clothes. Unfortunately, she, like all other people without an income or a trust fund, eventually started running out of money. Plus, she wasn't looking to pick up and move again. When Molly came to the small rural town of Lakeway, she didn't know if she would stay, but she found it charming and quiet. She didn't see or know a lot of people there, and often felt them look at her, but she figured that it would be that way for any newcomer. "You doing okay, hun'?" An aged waitress asked her, interrupting her thoughts and anxieties. "Want a top up?" Motioning the coffee pot towards the stained empty cup. "Oh, sure, thank you." Molly said, raising the mug. "You meeting a man or somethin'? You look real up-tight today." "Up-tight." She inwardly found herself bewildered by the accuracy of that phrase and wondered if all old diner waitresses were secretly witches or fortune tellers who knew all truths. They had an uncanny ability to read people accurately and always knew when someone needed more coffee. "No, well, sort-of, but it's not a date." Molly finally replied, fumbling over her words. The waitress looked her up and down, squinting one eye, "What is it then?" "An interview. I don't look too desperate do I?" The waitress ignored the question and pointed to Molly while still holding the coffee pot with her other fingers. "You gotta cover those tattoos of yours for the job?" "Probably. Wait...My tattoos? How do you..." With a wink and a smile, the over worked woman stated, "I seen you in here once or twice before." The door to the diner clipped a little bell that hung over it as it opened, making both women look over. A tall, seemingly near middle-aged man with lightly graying hair started scanning the place and unbuttoned his over coat. "You want me to hover 'round a bit?" The waitress asked while still looking toward the man. "No, that's alright, but wish me luck." With a quick nod, the waitress patted Molly's clammy folded hands and walked to the entrance. She grabbed a menu from it's stack and gestured to where Molly was seated. The nervous feeling came back to her as the man approached the table and adjusted his blazer to slide into the booth seating. The waitress placed the menu she'd gotten for him on the table and started turning over a cup for him. He nodded to her and stuck out his hand to Molly saying, "John Acker. It's nice to finally meet you, Miss. Green." The waitress poured him some coffee and he told her that he wouldn't be eating, so she shrugged and walked off. Molly returned the handshake as he continued, "You always signed your e-mails with an initial instead of your name. Interesting move. I have to admit I didn't expect you to be a woman, although it does explain part of your work experience." "I'm sorry?" Molly returned, "Which part of my resumé?" "Well, when we saw the job as a make up artist, we were a little confused how that would be a relevant inclusion for a position in human resources, but your education is sufficient." Molly couldn't help but start feeling defensive. She'd been expecting criticism of some sort, but didn't realize it would happen right away. His brow raised and the corner of his mouth twitched upward very slightly as her expression darkened with offense. "Yes, well, as an editorial make up artist, you have to work along side very opinionated clients and management. You have to make sure everyone is satisfied with your application and have strict time constraints. It's not as simple as just throwing on some lipstick and saying it's fine. It's detailed and caters to the individual's needs." Her eyes held passion as she carried on, "It has to hold up under harsh lights, daily activities, and accentuate what people objectively want." John held up his right hand in surrender, not expecting her to hold her own so well. "I wasn't attacking you. The company is trying to attract newer and younger hires to stay relevant." Working at a place that produced a local magazine in a small town would need perseverance. She wasn't really sure what it entailed, but she had lots of experience dealing with people and a solid education behind her. Makeup was never supposed to be the career path, she just ended up in that spot mostly because of her ex boyfriend, and stuck with it to pay for school. "We need an HR rep that will appeal to the younger demographic. In all honesty, we thought you were a... diversity... hire. Though, I suppose you still are." He spoke in an old fashioned but straight forward manner, and Molly couldn't tell if she disliked it or respected him for not skirting around things. "So, you just figured I'd be a man, and because I was in a makeup career, I was a gay man, making me a 'diversity hire', right?" He seemed unbothered and agreed, "That's right." Taking a hearty drink from his coffee, he looked her over quickly. "A woman will still make that quota though and we're looking to fill the position quickly." With that, he stood up, and finished the rest of the coffee from his mug. He dug in his pocket for some change, left it on the table and said, "You have the job if you're able to start this coming Friday. I'm head of the department you'll be working in, so save any questions for the orientation and paperwork. What you're wearing is fine, a bit too dressy, maybe, but I'd recommend not showing your tattoos off too soon." Her eyes widened as she looked to her long sleeves and self consciously pulled the collar of her shirt higher. "How do you know I have tattoos?" Molly watched as he put his coat on and smiled at her for the first time. "I've seen you around. You stick out in this town."