Blazing NEW debut novel by hot-shot author, King Dhakir. An ultimate mixture of drama, comedy, suspense, erotica, and social-political commentary wrapped in one book.
Surviving while earning scraps and living under the roofs of others, Justice King is a college graduate who struggles with finding his calling in life. Unruly customers, demanding managers and sophomoric co-workers push his patience to the edge while he earns a steady pay-check that only lasts until the next. He faces the challenge of steering away from the temptation of fast money and success as he thinks about the future once rent and property increases evict long-time residents from their homes. As smiles and laughter come in the form of side hustles, skirt chasing, and passing jokes with a close friend, the temporary high outside the workplace is what keeps his mind from exploding. The story of I Hate My Job is the vision of people who inspire to live the life of their choice with the sacrifice of getting out their dreams and creating their own vision. It’s the story of laughs, cries, pain, and joy, and the battle of lifting the spirits of the inner self.
Excerpt
Taken From Chapter 22: The Interview From Hell
Interviews were the worst, but making pocket change before heading to law school beats eating ramen noodles everyday as a broke student.
Lanette, the lady from the temp agency, hooked me up with an interview at a law firm. The temp assignment was the perfect opportunity to gain some knowledge before I was scheduled to take the LSAT…so at least I thought.
I waited in the lobby for five minutes donned in a brown suit and matching suede loafers until two men approached me with wide smiles. They looked like clowns, but I took my mind off from joaning on them and maintained focus.
“Are you Justice King?” a guy with blue eyes and blond hair asked me.
“Yes, I’m Justice King. Nice to meet you.” I extended my right arm and shook hands with them.
“My name is Jack Meoff,” the guy with blue eyes said. “And this is my business associate, Stu Piddass.”
Piddass was taller than his partner and I, and looked rather nervous, as if he’d never seen a brother before. I disregarded his giddiness, and Jack Meoff directed us to an empty conference room to start the interview.
Heat from the vents pulled sweat from my neck and I wiped my brow with a napkin. I grabbed a seat and sat across from Meoff and Piddass. I loosened my collar and dropped my leather carry bag on the floor.
“Do you mind if I take off my jacket?” I asked.
“Sure, go ahead,” Meoff responded, and Piddass looked at me like I was speaking alien. He was already rubbing me the wrong way.
I took off my suit jacket and placed it on the back of the chair. They both hawked at me while I handed them my resume. Their foreheads creased while studying the one-paged sheet of my history.
“I see you attended State University,” Piddass said in a stuck up way. “Hmm, a very good school.”
Dude was beyond condescending. I stayed cool with my hands folded on the table. Working with Adam and Suzie was a blessing in disguise because I knew how to handle characters with snooty attitudes. Stu Piddass’s breath smelled as if he’d swallowed a skunk. I held my breathing every time he spoke.
Meoff leaned forward with his hands also folded together.
“Tell me a little bit about your background.” Meoff’s high pitched voice brought fright to my ears. He sounded like a man butchering a song by singing off key on Karaoke night.
“I attended State University with a bachelor’s in Political Science, and graduated with a 3.6 GPA,” I said, in interview talk, and my history raised eyebrows. “I made the dean’s list three times as an undergrad, and was once president of the Me Phi Me National Honors Society.”
Meoff intensely studied my resume. “Okay, it looks like you have good qualifications for the job.” He shuffled through his notes, and Piddass glanced at his watch every ten seconds. “Well, Mr. King. What the company is offering is a copier position.”
“A copier position?” my voice turned high-pitched.
“Yes, a copier position.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I got the impression that the position involved assisting lawyers with court cases based on the job description that was posted.”
“Well, yes and no,” Piddass butted in. “You will assist lawyers, but only with copying their court documents for eight hours along with a 30-minute lunch break.”
These folks are insane! I thought to myself, and I pushed for more questions out of them to see if I could lobby for an office position.
“Are there any other positions available for clerical work?” I asked.
“Well, um…um, no.” Meoff stuttered, and looked over to Stu Piddass. “Only the copier position. Let me remind you, if you take this job you can only take one day off during the year.”
“What happens if someone in my family becomes sick, or if I need sick days?” I glared at them.
“Well, we would have to let you go. This job is very intense, and we have to make sure you’re here every day of the week.”
“So if I broke a knee cap, you’ll still expect me to come to work with one leg?” I played with them.
“Not to that extreme, but when, excuse me, if the time comes, we shall see.”
These cats were insane. Standing on my feet copying papers all day was degrading to my degree. I was baffled at how they pushed for me to copy papers without making the smallest effort to recommend me to a desk position. At least working clerical could’ve held me down until law school. Working without days off was like juggling fire without gloves. Even though the position was temporary, I still wasn’t settling for less.
“Are you’re interested in a slower paced or faster paced environment?” Piddass asked while staring at my resume.
“Which one do you think is more productive?” I responded half-heartedly with nothing to lose or gain.
“I think the slower pace is good for you.”
“Are you saying I’m slow?” I chuckled, and Piddass whispered off a sinister laugh.
“No, no, no.” Meoff grabbed the conversation away from his partner. “We think it’ll be a good fit for you.”
After Meoff finished, it was time for me to lawyer them.
“Do you think the copying position reflects my degree?” I asked, but to no one specifically.
“No, it doesn’t. You’re actually overqualified for the position,” answered Jack Meoff.
“So if I’m overqualified, then why wouldn’t you refer me to a position that remotely reflects my degree instead of having me stand for eight hours copying papers?” I asked, and “stuck on stupid” and “parked on dumb” were too lost for words.
I nodded and sucked my teeth with a crooked smile. “It was nice meeting you, sirs, but there’s no way I can take this job.” I politely shook their hands and went on my merry way.
I bought me a bottle of pink lemonade from the vendor in the lobby and waited outside after calling a taxi. The trip to Long Island was a waste of time and money, but regret was a learning experience.
Shoe Fetish was a severe let down after graduating and I wasn’t continuing that trend. My old earth had once told me, “Nobody will ever give you what you’re worth. You only get what you negotiate.” And I took heed to that jewel.
As I waited for the taxi, my cell phone rang, and I answered.
“Hey, Justice,” the female voice greeted me. “What’s good?”
I didn’t recognize the person on the other end, but I went along anyway.
“Nothin’. Just got outta this wack ass interview. I’m headed back to Brooklyn now. What’s good with you?” I asked, still unsure of whom I was speaking with.
“Nothin’…nothin’.” The woman hesitated and lightly hummed to her next words. “I have somethin’ to tell you.”
“Uh…okay, whassup?” I expected the worst and hoped for the best.
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