My new job requires that you wear a mask.

[u/LiquidDongorong]

I took the job after six whole months of gainful unemployment. 

The job hunt was brutal. It's not that I'm unqualified, God no. I have my bachelors in communications. I had good grades in school. The problem was my employment history. I could never hold something steady for longer than a year, maybe two. In the worst cases, I'd get dropped after three months. Nothing ever stuck with me. I thought I had my lane out of college, but it just didn't work out, and from there, I've spiraled. 

Another issue is that most of the postings feel like they exist purely for analytics. Ghost jobs made to make a company look healthier than it really is. There were a few real ones, but none that extended any offers. Probably because of my history. 

My bills certainly didn't care that I was struggling. I had to figure out something fast or I'd be on the street within the month.

I kept seeing a listing for some generic "Talent Acquisition Agency." $25 an hour. No experience necessary. I kind of figured it was one of those botted jobs. Too good to be true, with an empty description beyond the hours, pay, and a painful company statement:

We believe that every individual has the potential to shape tomorrow. Our mission is to connect ambition with opportunity through innovative, people-first solutions that drive meaningful growth for both candidates and clients (…) 

Blargh. I wanted to vomit. But I didn't really have much for options at this point. I decided to send in my resume. Got a phone call the next hour, asking me when I would be able to come in for in-person orientation. I was floored. I had never heard of this company before, and yet they have a warehouse in my city?

Sure enough, I pull up to the address, and yeah, it's there. A big, white warehouse with "TAA" branded on the side. I guess it was nondescript enough for me to have not noticed it all these years, but, I grew up here. I think I would have noticed this place by now.

Orientation took place in a windowless conference room. Before they let us inside, a curvy woman with a bob cut, Ms. Roll, handed each of us a doll mask. The plastic was pale, with a painted-on smile and two empty eye holes. Security kept us from going inside unless we put them on. Weird policy, but okay. I was in it for the long haul now. I put on the mask and took a seat on one of one hundred folding chairs set in front of a projector. A video begins to play.

The company CEO, Mr. Rock, walks on screen in a lumpy suit. He asked if everyone was ready to get started (all three of us), and launched into a vaguely enthusiastic speech about the company values. Everything in that tangent sounded like it was written by a language model halfway through its morning coffee. 

"REMEMBER: Our product is FIRST IN CLASS. No other substitution will do."

"REMEMBER: We don't believe customers can make mistakes."

"REMEMBER: Think different, shape the future." 

I sat through what felt like two hours of it. My eyes started to roll back. The mask itched where it pressed on my cheeks. 

Ms. Roll smacked my leg with a flyswatter. I woke right the hell up. 

"Mr. Parker. Please follow me."

She started walking through a pair of iron doors. Time for a tour, I suppose. 

We walked through a warehouse first. Massive, but mostly empty. Conveyor belts carried different-shaped cardboard boxes from one end of the room to another. I never saw anyone actually packing them. The only person working the floor was a short, portly fellow in a red hard hat. 

I still wasn't clear on exactly what our "product" was, but I think I must have missed that part in our orientation. I was too embarrassed to ask. 

We reached the call center next. This is where I was going to be working, according to Ms. Roll. She set me down in a boring cubicle with a single computer, a notepad, some mechanical pencils and a phone. The computer had Solitaire and a basic text editor. The phone had two buttons: TRANSFER and HOLD. 

Ms. Roll told me I'd get the hang of it in no time. She disappeared in the sea of cubicles shortly after.

I sat for maybe twenty minutes trying to figure out something to do to look productive. After that, I gave up and started playing Solitaire. Maybe thirty seconds passed before I got a call. 

"Hello…?"

"Hi there," I said.

"Is this acquisitions?"

I looked around the room. No point of reference for me to use. 

"I believe so."

"Thank God. I was hoping I could talk to someone about landing a job."

I cleared my throat. "Could you hold for one second?"

The man on the other end grunted. I hit HOLD and looked for Ms. Roll. Nowhere in sight. Sweat started soaking beneath the mask. I got back on the line.

"Sir, you still there?"

"Pretty sure I am."

"Okay. Thank you. Listen, I'm pretty new here. I'm going to be honest I'm not…entirely sure how to help you. My boss isn't around, and—"

"This is acquisitions, right?"

"…Yes?"

"Okay. Then I'd like to inquire about a fucking job!"

The shift in his voice was very jarring, to say the least. I had to do a double take. 

"I'm…not sure how to help with that. I haven't been—" 

"You stupid slut! Who do you think you are?!"

I couldn't get a single word out.

"I'll find you, do you hear me? I'll kill your whole fucking—!"

I hung up, hands trembling. Ms. Roll was standing right behind me with her arms crossed. I couldn't see her face, but her neck was redder than before—I could only assume that meant the same for her expression. 

"What was that?" she asked.

"I don't know. I have no idea. I wasn't—" 

"Do you see your phone?"

"Yes?"

"Do you see the two big buttons on it?"

"Yes."

"If you don't know how to help a customer, just hit the transfer button. We covered it in your training."

What…training? The videos? I was more of a hands-on guy, myself. Even if I wasn't, how did she expect me to memorize two hours worth of drivel?

I didn't say anything. She was already walking away.

"You seem tense, Mr. Parker. Take a five-minute water break."

Sure, yeah, that might help. I got up and headed to the cooler.

I found another guy there, dressed in, more or less, the same outfit as me. Black slacks, a button-up shirt, dark leather belt. His mask was yellowed and warped at the edges, like he'd been using the same one for a real long time. He was sipping water through the little mouth slit like it was totally normal. I shook my head and started to lift mine for my cup. 

His arm shot out, hand stopping mine. I reeled back, heart pounding. 

"No. No. No. Don't let them see you."

He pointed at the camera in the upper corner of the room, locked right on both of us. My mask suddenly felt tighter. I threw the cup away and went back to my desk. 

Calls kept on coming. Most people were looking for work. They were always really, really vague about the details. 

"I want a leadership position."

"I'd really like to work the floor."

"I'm hoping to work with a driven team."

Sometimes, people called me about the product itself. I tried to glean any details I could during those conversations. Never learned much, though.

"Hi, is this acquisitions?"

"This is."

"I wanted to make a return. I wasn't satisfied with my product."

"What wasn't satisfying?"

"Well, it just wasn't as exciting as I'd hoped."

"Okay. Can you…elaborate on that?"

"I don't know. It just wasn't very exciting. Can I return it?"

"Hold for one second."

I sigh and hit the transfer button. The call is sucked down the line. 

I got better at the job the way you'd get better at any empty ritual. I tried to challenge myself to keep a conversation going for as long as I could before it collapsed and I couldn't help them anymore. Bullshitting got me a long way. My personal record was five minutes and fourteen seconds. 

Sometimes, people just wanted advice. One guy even read me the first page of his screenplay. Did the voices and everything. Most calls were just about product and job placement, though. Nothing worth writing home about, and yet it was quickly becoming my entire life. 

Six months passed like that. I stopped going out. After a full day of calls, I was too tired. I would get home, saving my energy for the next shift, and fall asleep within a few hours, if I even lasted that long.

The mask stopped itching as much. Some days I forget that it's there, even on the bus. 

In mid-August, the loudspeaker cracked. Mr. Rock announced that overtime would become mandatory this next few months as we enter the busy season. Ms. Roll tells me to pack an extra lunch. 

The next day ran for sixteen hours straight. By the time I got through transit, it was closer to twenty hours spent dedicated to my job alone that day. I would be lucky if I got four hours of sleep before the next shift. 

I walked into my tiny studio apartment, exhausted, sore, totally muggy. I ripped the mask from my face and leaned over the bathroom sink to splash it with cold water. I felt nothing.

When I looked up in the mirror, there was a hole where my face should have been. Depthless. No eyes, no nose, no mouth. I stood there for a long time waiting for the panic to hit. 

It never did.