Room 103
(San Francisco, job hunting, 1968)
He went to the accounting department on the second floor, room 103, arriving just before four o’clock, quitting time. He found Harvey Golf, getting ready to go home.
“Mr. Golf!” The young man, from the Midwest said, “I was told to see you, the lady in Personnel Resources has gone home for the day. I’m looking for employment.”
“Oh.” Harvey Golf, said, somewhat taken back, surprised, a man in his early forties, well dressed, thin as a bean, receding hairline, little eyes like watermelon seeds, his black hair sparsely planted, was a perpetually cheerful man, a father of none.
“Have you ever worked in an office before?” he asked the young man, of twenty, who was well groomed but somewhat out of place.
“No sir, never have,” said the Irish lad, Lee Wright.
“I need someone who has.”
“Mr. Golf, maybe you can use me much better in a different department, I really need a job; and I’m strong.”
“I can see that,” said the wiry accountant, adding, “a few weeks ago we could have used you.”
“I need something now!”
“I’d rather you talk to the Personnel Resource Manager, she’ll be in tomorrow,” he said, glancing at his square face, and auburn hair, and broad shoulders, to the sandals on his feet. Then Harvey Golf leaned forward, “This is confidential,” he said, handing him a card, with his phone number underlined. “Call me up in an hour, I’ll be at home, and I’ll see what I can do for you. And I’d prefer you not mention this to anybody, if you’re looking to make a few dollars.”
“Not anybody, not even the Personnel Resource Officer?”
Harvey nodded. “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all,” said the young man, looking at the card in his hand, “when?”
“Today, in an hour or so, 5:30 p.m., at the latest…”
“Oh.” Lee Wright said, as he left Room 103, still holding the card, glancing at it a few times, noticing in the door window, Harvey still staring at him, as he opened the door up, then once outside of the building, he threw it in a garbage bin, and continued his search for employment, his third day in San Francisco.
No: 739 (2-17-2011)
(San Francisco, job hunting, 1968)
He went to the accounting department on the second floor, room 103, arriving just before four o’clock, quitting time. He found Harvey Golf, getting ready to go home.
“Mr. Golf!” The young man, from the Midwest said, “I was told to see you, the lady in Personnel Resources has gone home for the day. I’m looking for employment.”
“Oh.” Harvey Golf, said, somewhat taken back, surprised, a man in his early forties, well dressed, thin as a bean, receding hairline, little eyes like watermelon seeds, his black hair sparsely planted, was a perpetually cheerful man, a father of none.
“Have you ever worked in an office before?” he asked the young man, of twenty, who was well groomed but somewhat out of place.
“No sir, never have,” said the Irish lad, Lee Wright.
“I need someone who has.”
“Mr. Golf, maybe you can use me much better in a different department, I really need a job; and I’m strong.”
“I can see that,” said the wiry accountant, adding, “a few weeks ago we could have used you.”
“I need something now!”
“I’d rather you talk to the Personnel Resource Manager, she’ll be in tomorrow,” he said, glancing at his square face, and auburn hair, and broad shoulders, to the sandals on his feet. Then Harvey Golf leaned forward, “This is confidential,” he said, handing him a card, with his phone number underlined. “Call me up in an hour, I’ll be at home, and I’ll see what I can do for you. And I’d prefer you not mention this to anybody, if you’re looking to make a few dollars.”
“Not anybody, not even the Personnel Resource Officer?”
Harvey nodded. “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all,” said the young man, looking at the card in his hand, “when?”
“Today, in an hour or so, 5:30 p.m., at the latest…”
“Oh.” Lee Wright said, as he left Room 103, still holding the card, glancing at it a few times, noticing in the door window, Harvey still staring at him, as he opened the door up, then once outside of the building, he threw it in a garbage bin, and continued his search for employment, his third day in San Francisco.
No: 739 (2-17-2011)
