by Nancy Jackson
I was told that you wanted to maximize the benefits of a mature workforce
And that my experience would reward both myself and
my corporate co-workers.
I sat there, leaning in, with my run-down shoes
and throbbing varicose veins, and
I knew you weren’t talking to me.
I had just been discharged from a call center
where I couldn’t keep up with the recommended rate of production
and the dual-screen set-up left me:
(occasionally the words “senile” and “dementia’
would turn up in my inbox)
Eventually, after my tuna sandwich disappeared from the office
refrigerator and was replaced by someone’s deceased canary, nicely arranged
on a bed of hummous,
I determined that I was not going to be chosen poster girl
for maximizing the benefits of a mature workforce.
Once around that particular merry-go-round was enough for me.
So I explained to you that I had to leave, that I felt ill –
I terminated the interview –
I had a double Dewars at the corner bar
Where I met a nice guy to move in with.
Now we sell weed on CraigsList
And my benefits are maximized beyond my wildest dreams.
About the author
Nancy Jackson was born in Findlay, Ohio. She received English and Juris Doctor degrees from The Ohio state University, and an MSW from Wayne State University in Detroit, MI. She has retired from the practice of law but still works as a psychiatric social worker. She has traveled a lot of the world, and she looks forward to doing a stint as a volunteer in Haiti in the near future. She has two grown daughters, four grandchildren, a husband and a dictatorial cat. She resides in Monroe, MI, a Detroit outlier.
Holy ouch. My varicose veins throbbed in recognition.