(part 5)                                                        

                                                                    It Just Goes Without Saying!

     He was about to rise when Jimmy responded, “With all due respect Sir, it’s you whose holding up the process right now.” Mick plucked the note from her hand and delivered it promptly thru Benji Grammas who was seated next to Jimmy. Jimmy opened the noted, read it . . . he scratched his head, and then wrote a message which was ultimately routed back to Sally through the same channels.

     Before the note reached her, Jimmy added, “Let’s finish up here. I believe Sally and I have reached an agreement.” He looked for her last approval as she opened, read and nodded. “Great! We need to wrap this up . . .  I’ll need to buy a suit, I think.” He smiled and his eyes reverted back to Mick, “Are there any more questions for me, or am I hired?”

     Mick barely waited for him to complete his sentence, “You need to buy a suit for tonight, yet you interviewed with us looking like this? You came in with your hat on backwards, for God’s sake! I can’t believe you’re still wearing a hat in this otherwise formal setting.”

     Jimmy shrugged. “If you recall Sir, I compromised on the hat thing.” He lifted his hat using the bill which was now facing forward. “Regarding the rest of my look, I believe I dressed for the occasion. Tonight is a date with an elegant lady.” He pointed in Sally’s direction, “Just look at her, she gorgeous!” He leaned around to see her blush again then back to Mick, “Today I’m interviewing for a job where likely this will be my uniform. What’s the problem, Sir? After today, whether you hire me or not, you will never see me again.”

     Mick pounded the table, completely frustrated, “A little respect is what I want. You can’t even say what job you’re here for.”

     Jimmy slid back his chair, rose and moved toward the door all the while looking back in Sally’s direction, “Sally, I’ll see you tonight.” She nodded a final nod. Jimmy’s eyes then directed back to Mick, “There is a code amongst guys like me, Sir and even for someone like Sally here. She didn’t want to give me her number. I respect that. Instead she asked for mine. Of course I couldn’t give it to her and she could respect that. In the end, Sally and I found a compromise we both could live with. We are meeting at an undisclosed restaurant later. Make sense?”

     Jimmy paused before he transitioned his thought, “Surely you know I’m not gonna say why I’m here to be hired . . . and most incredible I don’t expect you to say it either. We all know the nature of this meeting and if you choose to take me on, I’m confident somehow the message will get through to me.”

     He waited for a response, but not very long. “This is ridiculous. I don’t need this job from you or your company. I’ll take your attitude toward my attire as a rejection of me if you don’t mind. Honestly, I have other leads.  I’ll find a taker.”

     Jimmy pulled the door open and was about to leave, “Believe me Sir, Mr. Grammas had a lot of convincing to do, just to get me to do a face to face like this. I really don’t want anyone to know who I am related to my employment, but I took a gamble knowing full well your company does hire the likes of me.” He stared Mick right in the eye, “Just say ‘yea’ or ‘nay’ and I’ll be on my way.”

     Mick took a deep breath. He looked at Tiny Burgess. “What do you say? Shall we put him on the payroll?”

     Tiny nodded mid-sentence. “I remember the incident Morse was talking about. It truly was very clean. I like Mr. Beckell here. He seems very professional in a new-age kind of way.”

     Then Mick directed to Mr. Stern, “I guess you’re familiar with Mr. Beckell and you approve.”

     “Indeed I am. Bill Bob Jenkins was in my territory. I signed off and Morse took care of the rest.  The job was clean as a whistle as were the other two he mentioned. Believe me, I asked around.”

     Mick closed his eyes as he considered his decision, “Let me ask you one last thing Mr. Beckell. How does a guy like you get into a dirty business such as this?”

     

(part 3)                                                        

                                                                    It Just Goes Without Saying!

     Benji remained confident, “Just one more, Mick. Jimmy, please continue with Mr. Brock Ordman.”

     Jimmy wasn’t sure he should continue, so he looked first to his left at Marcus Stern and then to his right at Mick Underwood. They both nodded. “Alright . . . about Brock ‘the iceman’ Ordman. It was said he lived hidden in some woods on the outskirts of a small North Carolina town, again I can’t remember the name.”

     This time Tiny Burgess chimed in, “You can’t remember, or you don’t want to say?”

     Jimmy turned to acknowledge the question but he continued without a response to his query, “The ‘iceman’ was a hillbilly hermit. He was one of the main moonshine distributors in the area, but his was deemed cheap and low quality. The town’s people didn’t like him ruining the area’s reputation for delivering the country’s finest sippin’ whiskey. Anyway, about 3 months back his body washed up on the bank of a nearby creek. He was first identified a few weeks after that.” 

     Mick was tapping his pencil impatiently. He looked at Benji, “Is that it? Is he done with this little portion of the interview process?”

     Benji looked down at his reference guide and replied, “Yep, that was the last one.”

     Mick then turned to Jimmy and requested, “Just what kind of business is it that you think you are getting yourself into here and how do these references enhance your ability to gain some kind of employment with us?”

     Jimmy rolled his eyes and replied without any hesitation, “Some things go without saying, Sir”. After getting no satisfaction from Mick, he turned back to Benji Grammas, “Okay, the rest of this presentation is now backing into your hands. I’ve done all that I can.” 

     Benji’ s eyes moved from Jimmy to J. Morse Shelby for his input.  Without any kind of verbal exchange Morse began, “I’m very much familiar with Jimmy and I’m familiar with the deceased Bill Bob Jenkins. If you all will remember a few months back I came up to Chicago to buy a fleet of what turned out to be ‘lemons’.”

     In an attempt to lighten the mood a little, he looked over at Sally and gave a little wink. She returned an evil stare then went back to making notes. She muttered to herself, “It’s just another example; you simply can’t make lemonade with anything we have around here.”

     With a grin still on his face, Morse continued, “Well it turns out, Mr. Jenkins was at the bottom of that pile of rotten apples and he wouldn’t make any kind of acceptable amends. So, rather than make a scene I wrote off the transaction as a complete loss, and then I had Mr. Jenkins removed from our potential vendor list . . . permanently. It was a completely clean and professional transaction. There were no residual effects, not even the smallest of crumbs. I was very pleased.”

     Mick tried to tie all the events together stating what everyone else seemed to already know, “So your comments relate to this car deal gone bad, how was Mr. Beckell involved?”

     Before anyone could respond, Jimmy directed back to Sally, “Miss Sally, could I get a glass of water, some ice and maybe you could spice it up a bit with a wedge of lime?”

     Sally rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Geez, I just chucked the last one, what a waste.” She looked at him and in a stern tone she requested, “Are you completely sure this is what you want?”

          

(part 1)                                                        

                                                                    It Just Goes Without Saying!

                                               by T. L. Raasch

     It goes without saying job interviews are unnerving, and at times the interviewers can be very intimidating. Imagine as Jimmy Beckell entered the room. It seemed as though he was interrupting a corporate board meeting or something like that; all the participants were dressed to the nines. He of course anticipated this setting. He considered and calculated his own appearance for the meeting very carefully; uncombed hair, unshaven face (several days of growth), a faded-out college sweatshirt, torn blue jeans and some black and white Chuck Taylor basketball shoes. He had yet to remove his weather-beaten outerwear, a navy blue pea coat and a black, very generic baseball-styled hat worn backwards.

     From the corner of the room, outside the circle of importance approached a slim, trim blonde. Jimmy suspected most likely she was an office assistant slash administrator. She was the one who broke the room’s silence, “I’m Sally Almond. If you feel you need anything, I’m your source.” She reached toward him, “May I take your coat and your hat?”

     Without looking at her directly, his head moved from side to side, “Thanks, I’ll keep them.”

     She looked around the table and back to him, “You’ll need to remove that hat.”  She then took one retreating step back toward the corner and added in afterthought, “Oh, and would you like coffee or something else?”

     He turned the bill of his hat forward, but left it in place. “If nothing else, I’m a willing compromiser.” His eyes circled the table stopping briefly to study each individual’s expression, “Water will be fine, thanks . . . with ice if you have it . . . oh and could you please spice it up a bit with a lemon?”

     It seemed none of their eyes were even acknowledging his presence, so “Am I late?”  he asked. Still no one looked up, so he rephrased, “You were expecting me, right?”  Except for the interaction with Sally, the only sound in the room came from the table, where pages were being turned and reports were being reviewed.

     Two of the five-man team he recognized and acknowledged with little more than a head nod, they of course did not respond in kind. He was familiar with Marcus Stern, the Midwest District Manager whose office was located in Chicago, and he had done some consultant-type work for Mr. Shelby, the Southwestern Head who worked in the Tucson area. 

     Jimmy stood quietly waiting, most of 5 minutes passed. Somewhere in the meantime, Sally delivered water with ice and with a wedge of lime. He made no effort to receive her delivery. He simply responded, “Details are important, don’t you think Sally?” As she began to nod he continued, “Where I come from there is a distinction between lemon and lime. For instance, you can’t take limes and make lemonade. Do see what I mean?”

     She looked at the drink, and then returned to her seat shaking her head and mumbling, “You can’t make lemonade from anything we have around here.” 

     Finally, after the tension had reached its peak Mr. Stern began making some quick introductions. Pointing to the gray-haired gentleman at the head of the table, “This is Michael Underwood. He came all the way from his Baltimore office to meet you. You can call him Mick.” Jimmy surmised this was the ultimate authority in the room. “And next to him meet Tim ‘Tiny’ Burgess. Tiny is Mick’s right-hand man.” The portly man barely looked up over the top of his half-type reading glasses before returning his focus to the papers lying before him.  Jimmy thought to himself, “He must be Mr. Underwood’s heir apparent.”

     “Finally, I present to you, Mr. Benji Grammas. He’s our company’s talent evaluator, the one who brought us all together, on your behalf. Mr. Grammas stood and reached a hand to greet Jimmy, “Thanks for taking the time today.” Jimmy nodded but stood firm, he didn’t make any effort to remove his hands from his coat pockets.

     Mr. Stern continued, “I’m sure you know I’m Marcus Stern and you’re familiar with J. Morse Shelby, right? Everybody knows the “J” is silent, we just call him Morse.”  No one reacted to this little attempt at humor. Mr. Stern’s eyes circled the table before he passed control to Mr. Grammas, “Okay, it’s your show, Benji.”

         

(part 4)                                                        

                                                                    It Just Goes Without Saying!

     Jimmy grinned, looked around to the rest of the room and then responded in a whisper (even though everyone else could hear the comment, he made it clear it was directed for her ears only) “Sally, I love your sassy style. Could I somehow get your number? I’d like to set-up a dinner with you while I’m still in town.”

     Sally looked flushed, “Oh brother! I wasn’t expecting that. Maybe I’ll just get you the water you requested.” She quickly filled a new glass with the requested ingredients and delivered promptly. This time Jimmy received it properly and took a big drink.

     “Hmmm . . . this is pretty good, thank-you Ma’am.” His eyes remained focused on her and there was another moment of tension.  Mick was about to speak when Jimmy continued toward Sally, “Well?”

     Sally was red and she was somewhat speechless, “I . . . I don’t know what to say exactly. I don’t particularly like anyone referring to me as Ma’am.”

     Jimmy nodded in an understanding way but then continued with persistency, “Okay Sally, may I call you that? What do you like? Miss Almond or is there something better?”

     She waved him off, “You’re being ridiculous Mr. Beckell. Call me Sally if you need to address me, that’s my name.”

     “Okay Sally and you can call me Jimmy.” He nodded, she nodded and he continued, “Sally, I think I heard you say ‘If you feel you need anything, I’m your source’, I heard that right, right?”

      Sally shook her head in disbelief, “That did sound like a direct quote.”  Sally quickly moved back to her seat, but Jimmy was focused. She was sitting directly behind Mick, so he leaned around and waited for a response. “Sally, I’m very big on details. I hope I quoted you correct.”  Again Mick was becoming very much impatient and was about to speak, but Jimmy interrupted, “I believe the ball is in Miss Sally’s court, Sir. I think it would be rude not to let her handle it.”

     Sally huffed, “Are you serious? You just called me Miss Sally, that is not any better than Ma’am.”

     Jimmy replied, “Come on Sally, handle the ball, it’s in your court!”

     “You’re playing with me now, right? You’re making me out a fool, just because I delivered a lime chunk instead of a lemon. Can we just get on with the rest of this interview?”

      Jimmy shook his head to the negative, “I would never do such a thing. I’m a man of great integrity.” He was still leaning. “You made an offer earlier and I’m taking you up on it. Could I get your number, so we can stop wasting these gentlemen’s time?”

     Sally quickly wrote something on a sheet from her notepad. She folded it once and then again. She tapped Mick on the shoulder and said, “Could you forward this very confidential message to Mr. Beckell?” 

     Mick was steaming now, “Are we in grade school? I’m here all the way from Baltimore, for what . . . so I can pass a love note. My time is too precious to waste like this.”

          

(part 2)                                                        

                                                                    It Just Goes Without Saying!

     Benji was about to speak when Mick Underwood interrupted, “Your references Sir, they’re all deceased. Are you here simply to waste our time?” He turned to his company recruiter for further clarification. “What’s going on Benji? You couldn’t have checked with these guys . . . what makes you so sure this guy is a competent candidate for our employment? ”

     Benji had a confident grin as he responded, “Perhaps Mr. Beckell can elaborate best, regarding his well-chosen references.” He extended his hand toward Jimmy and prompted, “Tell these gentlemen exactly why these are your references, tell them just the way you told me on the telephone.”  Jimmy had a bit of a confused look on his face, so Benji inquired, “What’s the matter, Boy. You were so confident when we last spoke.”

     Jimmy retreated slightly, so he could lean against the wall, “Well, I guess I figured we’d be passed all these formalities. They know why I’m here, right? You told them what my skill set is, right?”

     “Nope, I just told them you had potential worth considering. Come join us at the table.”

     Jimmy stood silently for a few more tension packed moments, then slid into the vacant chair between Mr. Stern and Mr. Grammas, “Well, okay then. I don’t have my presentation memorized or anything. I can’t even remember who I listed there. Can you refresh my memory?”

     Mr. Grammas quickly turned to Jimmy’s page of references, “You listed Willie Boyd, Bill Bob Jen . . .”

     Jimmy started right in, “Okay, I’ll talk about Willie first.” He pondered a moment and then continued, “Willie Boyd was an orphan boy. I met him at the orphanage I was assigned to in southern Arizona. I remember him walking around the neighborhood like he owned the place. He dressed and looked like he was an orphan boy; his jeans all worn out and always had an unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. Everyone else wanted to be just as cool as him.”

     “Not much else to say about him, except to me he wasn’t cool at all. He was bigger and older than me and he used that against me more than once.” Jimmy paused as some emotions were stirring inside of him. He continued, “Not everything about him is negative. Frankly, if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have the credentials to ask for this interview today. Does anyone have any questions about . . .” Before he finished his thought another one came to him, “Oh, I have one more thing to say about Willie. He was a loner, so no one cared all that much when he turned up dead on that desolate desert road in the south part of Arizona. His head was mysteriously crushed in.” 

     Jimmy stood quiet until Benji Grammas prompted him again, “And tell us about Bill Bob Jenkins.”

     Jimmy shrugged, “No questions about my friend Willie Boyd?” He made eye contact five times, then continued, “Okay  then . . . I believe Bill Bob Jenkins was the guy who owned a dealership on the west side of  . . . of . . . shoot, I can’t remember the town name, a little place just outside of Chicago; I do remember the corner street names. It was Knickerbocker and Ramsey.  Anyway, I don’t suppose there was a person in that whole town that doesn’t have at least a relative who was burned by one of his unscrupulous auto deals. To make a long story short, a few months back he was discovered hanging upside-down from the rafters of his dealership garage. I found an article reporting it in the town’s Gazette. It’s most important to note, they deemed it so unimportant there they planted it on page 10, their very last page.”

     Another moment of silence before Benji Grammas attempted to prompt again, “How about the fella named Bro . . .”

     Mick was getting impatient, “What are we listening to here? I don’t have time to go through the obituaries.”

          

(the conclusion)                                                        

                                                                    It Just Goes Without Saying!

     Jimmy stepped back into the room, “Mr. Michael Underwood, you are not into details like me. I know your name, your title, what city you’re from . . . you didn’t even listen when I told you about my friend Willy Boyd. If you had, you wouldn’t have asked such a question. After I leave, it would behoove you to go over Sally’s notes to refresh your memory . . . details Sir, they are very important.”

     “If I were you, rather than dwelling on the irrelevant like my wardrobe, I would have ask me if there were conditions that needed to be met, in order for me to accept a position with your organization. There are some you know, and Mr. Grammas here already agree to them. I wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.”

     Mick seemed stunned. His head swiveled toward Mr. Grammas, “Benji, you agreed to something without discussing it with me first?”

     Benji was quick to nod, “Of course! When you hired me you said ‘I need you to take care of things. Don’t bog me down with your details’. I was so sure we needed a guy like Beckell here, I gave up some concessions just to get him here.” Mick reluctantly nodded in agreement. “Do you really want to know what was agreed to? It won’t change anything.”

     Mick hesitated and said, “Yes I do, but just give me the highlights, if nothing else.”

     “Well first you have to know, Jimmy made some concessions too. He had to agree to meet with you face to face, a very dangerous agreement for a man in his position. In return, I agree we’d never have to see him again. He could hide anywhere, but he would always provide a contact point, again somewhat dangerous for him.”

     “He agreed to interview, but only if he could redirect questions if he deemed them inappropriate. I agreed to tackle any topic he wasn’t comfortable with. A few of the boys here agreed to help me too, when necessary.”

     “Finally, I insisted that he should perform a task for me, before I could recommend him to you. He refused.” Benji paused for effect, “I decided this was your rule not mine, Sir. I decided, your rule was too confining for me, so I trumped you, to get this guy in here. I decided he was just too good to pass on, but inside I knew you’d still have the power to overrule me now. Those are some of the details, just the highlights, Sir.”

     Mick clarified, “You hired this guy without getting a sample of his work?”

     “Well, I already knew of his work, we already had our samples. Mister Jenkins and Mister Orman were his references remember? Again, you don’t need the details Sir. He took care of our issue, but really the details of how aren’t all that important to us either.” 

     Without further comment, Jimmy left. He received no commitment that day and most peculiar nothing further was discussed by the committee as some things just go without saying. And it goes without saying that no one was surprised when Sally Almond failed to show up for work the next day . . . or for that matter ever again. She was removed from the payroll almost the exact same day Jimmy Beckell was added.

     Finally, it goes without saying that Jimmy never actually showed up for work either, but he did get paid and he knocked off all of his assignments one at a time, right on schedule. There was never any residual cleanup work needed, not even a crumb.