| |
 |
 |
123022, Москва, Звенигородское ш., 4,
торговый центр "Электроника на Пресне", офис В-46
тел/факс +7(495) 788-4130, 740-2920
Задать вопрос, сделать заказ
Полезные ссылки
|
|
He waited.
I heard the clock tick, then he hit it.
He put my card in the rack.
How late was I, Mr.
Ferris?" "Ten minutes.
Now follow me." I followed along behind him.
I saw the group waiting.
Four men and three women.
They were all old.
They seemed to have salivary problems.
Little clumps of spittle had formed at the corners of their mouths; the spittle had dried and turned white and then been coated by new wet spittle.
Some of them were too thin, others too fat.
Some were near- sighted; others trembled.
One old fellow in a brightly colored shirt had a hump on his back.
They all smiled and coughed, puffing at cigarettes.
Then I got it.
The message.
Mears-Starbuck was looking for stayers.
The company didn't care for employee turnover (although these new recruits obviously weren't going anywhere but to the grave -- until then they'd remain grateful and loyal employees). And I had been chosen to work alongside of them.
The lady in the employment office had evaluated me as belonging with this pathetic group of losers.
What would the guys in high school think if they saw me? Me, one of the toughest guys in the graduating class.
 |
|
