Where does this story pick up? It picks up yesterday morning, at around 9am. I was on my way out the door to go and meet with $mentor[0], when I noticed that there was a voicemail on my phone. I called. It was the manager/owner from the Great Harvest Bread store.

The message indicated that he wanted to interview we -- on the same day if possible -- and he would be around for most of the morning.

I pondered my options for a minute, as I had already agreed to spend the day with $mentor[0]. Well, opportunity knocks...

I called the bread company, and he answered the phone. I said I had received his message, and already had plans for the day, but said I would be interested in talking to him about the job.

He said, "Here's the thing, somebody quit unexpectedly, and I'd like to have someone to start on Monday. If you could just come in for a little while, it shouldn't take more than a half hour."

I pondered that, and said I'd call him back in a minute.

I called $mentor[0] to postpone for an hour, called the bread store again, and agreed to meet. Opportunity indeed.

I arrived at the store in short order, and we had our interview.

A somewhat older man -- must have been in his 40's or 50's -- he said he interviews everybody the same way, and it's worked well (for the most part) ever since he started running the store many years ago. He listed three reasons why I wouldn't want to work there. The possible reasins being:

1. "None of us are going to get rich doing this. I do it because I love making the best bread in town fresh. The starting wage is $8.50 an hour, and the way things have been going, I probably won't be able to afford to give you a raise for at least a year."
2. The job is physical demanding, and requires a fair amount of heavy lifting.
3. "Everyone here depends on each other, so I need somebody who can be relied upon to show up when they're scheduled to work on time, because unlike some jobs, if any one person doesn't get to their shift on time, it's really hard on everybody else."

We then went on to talk a little more about the company, the bread, and he asked me some questions about my past jobs. He indicated that before he lets anyone accept the job, they have to go home, sleep on it, and think about the three disadvantages of working there and call him the next day if they still want the job. No hard feelings if anyone decides if it isn't for them. That way, he can avoid hiring somebody who's likely to leave right after they start, which avoids expense and headaches.

As I talked to him, I decided I really like this guy and the way he runs his business. No bullshit, no stupidity. He seemed like a fair and decent man, and the other people working there also seemed to be in good spirits. That's always a good sign.

He gave me a brief tour of the place, through each step of the process for making the bread. All organic ingredients, ground from the raw wheat seeds right in the store. Excellent.

When we got back to the front, I asked him if employees get a discount.

He smiled, and said, "If you work here, you can take home all the bread you want to eat for you and your immediate family. The reason for this is that we want you to know as much about the product as possible, so you're able to tell customers about it." He then took a loaf off the shelf, handed it to me, and said I could have it to ponder while I thought about the job.

Awesome. What a refreshing thing to hear after the King Soopers policy of "No employee discount whatsoever, and if we catch you taking anything out of the store -- even if it's about to be thrown in the trash -- that's stealing from the company!"

(I can't tell you how many times when I was working there, I had customers ask which type of fancy salad I preferred, to which I would usually either have to shrug my shoulders or just make something up. When you're working at $8.48 an hour, you do not buy $6.99 salads to eat on your lunch break. You take the high carb dinner combo, stuff the container as full as possible (so there's some leftovers to eat later), and buy it during the unpublicized post-7pm half price special. That is until they got rid of that deal, two weeks before I quit. Otherwise, you go to Taco Bell and order burritos.)

So anyway, fuck you King Soopers, and its parent company Kroger. Now back to our story.

Well, needless to say, I left that interview happy, and was pretty damn sure I would be calling back the next day.

The first person to hear the happy news was $mentor[0]. I shared some of the bread with him, and he congratulated me. We went hiking, watched The Corporation on dvd, I helped him paint his wall, and then, since his previous evening plans ended up being cancelled, he treated me to The Interpreter. Good times.

I went home, told mom that I would be starting in the bakery, and she seemed rather pleased with this news.

I slept for a few hours, woke up naturally at 2am (my somatic system has been exhibiting some utterly bizarre patterns lately). Since it wasn't too far off from the waking time I would need to accustom my body to anyway, I decided to just go with it and get up. (Oh yeah, I forgot to mention this. The shift at the bakery begins at 4:30am. Yes, bright and early.)

A full moon out. Beautiful night. I was going to ride my bike over to dad's. To my chagrin, when I mounted, I realized that the rear tire was completely flat. Doh! How odd. It seemed ok when I rode a few days ago, and it's just been sitting there in my room since.

I contemplated just driving over, but... how utterly mundane that would be!

Refusing to be thwarted, I reconfigured the contents of my backpack, loaded Sarah Fimm into my cd player, and prepared for a nice midnight foot journey.

Halfway across the parking lot, I started the music, and was distressed to hear an excessively distorted ticking sound in the right ear. this ancient pair of headphones I had persistently continued to use despite the fact that the padding on the ears had worn off long ago were, perhaps, finally done for. I have newer portable headphones, but none of them sound as good as the old ones, thus I had kept using the old ones for walking.

Again, I returned, and searched my room for my other portable headphones. They were nowhere to be found. Eventually, I decided that I must have left them at dad's place. Damn. Well, they sound shitty anyway. I resorted to taking "the big pair" that I normally only use indoors. They sound awesome, but they look ridiculous for outdoor exercising, and since they're a bit more expensive I don't like to take them out on outdoor journies. But this was an exception.

I hunted for a rubber band to tie up the excess cord. I found one lying on the shelf, and proceeded to bind it up. (I really should have a standard place for such things, but I don't.) As I put it around the headphone cord, the band broke.

"Oh great universe, you think you're trying to curse me on this night. A flat tire. Failing headphones. The other travel headphones missing. And a stupid little rubber band that breaks. But I refuse to be intimidated by these seemingly coincidental events. These trivial bits of bad luck will not get me down, because I've already had the good luck of getting a job at the best bakery in town, which more than balances out any other shit you can throw at me. So hah! I refuse to be thwarted!"

I failed to locate another rubber band, but did manage to find a twisty tie, and used that. Then I was out the door again!

As before, the glorious music of Sarah Fimm began to play, but this time in perfect hifi quality.

The walk was so pleasant, the air so perfect, it almost went too quickly. Before I knew it, I had finished the ~5 mile journey, and was here.

I surfed the web, wrote up a brief movielog entry, and pondered. Maybe it seems silly to some, but right now, working at the Great Harvest bread company seems like as close to the perfect job as there could be for me. I like the store, I think I like the man I would be working for, and the other people there seemed nice, and not burned out and disspirited like so many back at King Soopers. It's not owned by some bureaucratic corporation, and the job is making bread. Good bread. Organic bread. And cookies, and rolls.

The pay ain't exactly wonderful, but it would be something to live on. And it's close by, so I wouldn't have to do tons of driving. It's near enough to both dad's and mom's to be within easy biking distance.

A few days ago, while I was biking by, even closer to it (within a couple blocks), I noticed a big sign outside an apartment complex advertising rents from $495/month. (Cheaper than anything I've seen around here before. Then again, I haven't seen the inside of them. Maybe $495 is for a studio. Even so, it wouldn't be bad.) I pondered the possibility of looking at moving into those after a month or two. Or maybe finding a roommate. Or something.

Possibilities opening up.

Dad woke up and started to make eggs. I told him about the bread job, and he got all excited. We ate the last of yesterday's loaf for breakfast toast.

After breakfast, I still felt too jazzed and psyched up to sit still, so I took another a long walk on the bike trail going east.

Along the way, I noticed a bike just laying in the canal with water running over it. What an odd place to leave a bike. It appeared to be abandoned.

I decided to investigate, and dragged it out. The cement leading down to the water had a steep incline -- my shoes could just barely stand on it without slipping or falling over. I managed to get the bike itself up and out, but the seat was detached, and still laying in the water. I went back down to grab it, and slipped.

With one foot in the water, the bottom of the canal was very slippery, and in short order, I was sitting on my butt with cold water flowing all over me.

I picked up the bike seat, and got out of the water. Both of my shoes and the right half my body and clothes were soaked. That was not bad luck. That was me being a curious little mouse.

The street bike, though old and worn, had most of its parts in tact. Both tires were flat.

Now I wished there were a nearby bike collective I could take it to, similar to the one they used to run at the former Circle A Ranch. Maybe there is, and I just don't know about it. Must attend Food Not Bombs more often. Then maybe I could get up on more of this shit.

Well, I didn't really want this bike, so I wheeled it into a vacent tunnel underneath a nearby overpass. Maybe if it does belong to somebody, and they come back looking for it, it's close enough that they should be able to find it. If not, maybe some other adventuring soul will discover it there and make use of it. Or maybe it will still be there next time I walk by later. I'll remember to look.

I walked back with my clothes gradually beginnig to dry. Took off my wet shoes and socks, and sat down. 9:30. Time to make a phone call.

I've think I've said this before, but it bears repeating. Talking over the phone is perhaps one of the most tedious activities one can engage in. I hate and despise it, but I realize that sometimes it's a necessary evil.

As directed, I called the home number the bakery owner had given me on the previous day. A woman answered -- presumably his wife. I asked if Barry was there. She said that he was out, but that she could take a message.

I gave my name, and asked her to tell him that I would accept the job, assuming it was still available. She said she would relay the message, and hung up.

I had been hoping he would be there, not only so I could make the final confirmation about arriving tomorrow, but also because there were a few questions I wanted to ask him that I hadn't thought of while I was there yesterady.

Is this important enough that I need to talk to him about it before I get there tomorrow and start working? Yes, I think it is.

I called back, intending to leave an additional message with his wife asking him to call me back, because I had a few questions.

This time, it was his voice answering the phone. Not what I was expecting -- it had only been a minute had passed since I left the message. He had arrived back. Caught slightly off guard, I stumbled into asking him if he had a minute to answer a couple of questions, and then realized I hadn't actually stated who I was to him, so he was understandably a bit confused.

I clarified, and then it made sense. He said he did have a minute, so I proceeded to ask.

Q: Is it just the one store, or a small chain?

A: A loose franchise of independently owned and operated bakeries, each of which is owned by different people who make their own policies and run it their own way.

Q: Do you only sell bread directly to people inside the bakery, or does some of it get sold wholesale to other places like grocery stores?

A: It varies with each outlet, but most of them, including this one, only sell to customers inside the bakery.

Before going into my last question, I mumbled that, by the way, yes I would like to work at your bakery and I'd be happy to start on Monday.

To this, he replied that a hiring decision wouldn't actually be made for another 24 hours. Uh... That got my attention quickly. Technically, I guess he hadn't offered me a job, although had come pretty damn close.

(Yesterday, at the end of the interview, since I wasn't totally sure, I asked the direct question, "So if I call you tomorrow and say I want the job, I can come in and start on Monday?" To which he had replied, "Yes." So I think he did, but not in a formal way.)

He said that he had made earlier promises to a couple of the other applicants, and that nothing would be decided until tomorrow.

"Ok, but didn't you need somebody to start working tomorrow morning?"

"Well, I did, but that's changed. I'll let you know though."

I went ahead with my final question, which was to make sure that if I did get/accept the job, I wanted to be certain that I could get the days off for the upcoming megafest. I assumed correctly that we would talk about that when/if I actually do get hired.

He said he would call me back when he came to a decision.

I hung up the phone, dejected. Alright, unlucky forces of the universe, you win. For now.

I got the sinking feeling that this job -- this seemingly near-perfect opportunity to make the next step in my life, one that felt very right -- was slipping away. I knew I had sounded awkward on the phone, and maybe at the interview yesterday too, especially as it had been such a totally out-of-the-blue impromptu thing.

Could he have been spooked when I told him that I wasn't at all confident that the people at *Soft would give me a positive reference? I was honest. But maybe a little too honest. He didn't seem at all perterbed by it at the time, but... I don't know.

Well, if it slips away, it slips away. Accept and deal. I'd be no worse off than I was 48 hours ago. I just wish I hadn't gone around telling people how I was going to be working at this awesome bakery starting Monday.

Beyond that, even if he does end up offering me the job, my trust in this potential employer has been somewhat eroded. I felt like I had been offered a job already. A little misunderstanding, perhaps. Maybe that's a breech can be repaired with time, if I do end up working there. Probably. But... well.... I don't know.

When I started writing this, I was feeling absolutely in the dumps, wondering how I could possibly bring my mind back to a state where I could describe the good things I was feeling yesterday without giving away the ending. I feel slightly better now.

After all, the ending hasn't been written yet. If it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen. Other things will happen. I have to believe that.

Now I almost think I could use another walk, except my hanging socks are still wet.

Well, I definitely need to piss. So I'm closing this thing. Until next time.

P.S....

P.S.S. I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to go to the fucking club tonight. I haven't been there in ages. Some heavy music and a dance floor could do me good. As for alcohol... well, though the thought of getting totally trashed is tempting, I should probably go light on that. Especially in my current state. But it will be something to focus my mind on for the next few hours. I will not be put down.