Interview (M)

[gay-for-the-snz]

Remembered I can cross post things from my Tumblr (same name) to here! So please enjoy 3000 words of modern!AU for my character Dr. Valentine, and the process of hiring a new TA

⁂

The door to the office is shut firmly, the sign-up sheet for office hours conspicuously turned backward to face the wall. No visitors, is the clear message it sends, but he glances at his phone again to double check the time. 2:27.

 

His email said their appointment is at 2:30, but already he's been sitting here staring stupidly at the door for over fifteen minutes. Just go knock! But it doesn't feel that simple. Dr. Valentine is a man who is precise in everything he does. Showing up before the appointed time feels just as dangerous as showing up late--he was given a time, he needs to abide by it. 2:28.

 

Monty fiddles with his resume, contained safely within a plastic sleeve and safe from the crinkling every other paper in his possession has fallen victim to--a nervous habit, really, one he ought to try and overcome--but for now it's just him and this resume waiting in an otherwise empty hallway across from the office of one of the most universally disliked professors the college has to offer. And it's not that he thinks he's a bad professor, or, he thinks, even a bad person, really--why would he apply for a job with someone who was just plain unkind?--but he's...blunt. Direct. Someone his ma would say had 'the same social grace God gave a leech'. 2:29.

 

He finally works up the nerve to approach the door, and the millisecond before his fist collides with it, it swings open in front of him to reveal the grim man, backlit by the afternoon sun in a manner that reminds him of the chiaroscuro of horror movies. Monty recoils, awkwardly holds his hand with his other one to occupy it. The clock on the wall displays the time. 2:30.

 

"Dr. Valentine!"

 

"Mr. Cavanaugh."

 

"You uhm--you startled me, sorry." He didn't expect him to be...right there.

 

The doctor stands directly in the doorway, looking at him for an overly long few seconds before stepping aside and granting him entry to the office. "Come in. Your interview will begin momentarily."

 

Despite the fact that he has several inches on the doctor, Monty finds himself feeling like that's far from the case, but he follows him in nonetheless.

 

He's only been in the office once before this, and after taking his seat he allows his eyes to wander a little while Dr. Valentine pulls up paperwork on his computer. The room is plainly unremarkable, save for the scarce personal elements.

 

A row of Polaroids and printed digital photos are carefully tacked up across the bottom of one of the cabinets, several depicting a young man and woman, occasionally alone but often together. He makes a note to look more closely later when it won't seem rude. The only thing truly of note in the room is that his desk chair--an ancient thing, judging by the way it creaks--is topped with an antimacassar, which he doesn't think he's ever seen outside the houses of women in their 90s, all trimmed in lace and carefully set just so. And God knows the man needs it--he doesn't know how much pomade the doctor uses, but his hair is slick and shiny and the way it's combed back is neat and tidy to an almost uncanny degree.

 

"Alright, let's begin." Dr. Valentine takes the protected papers from their sleeve and thumbs through them. "Theodore Montgomery Cavanaugh." He enunciates each name clearly and separately, glancing over the paper at him before looking back down. "You took one of my classes two quarters ago. Passed with a 3.8--quite respectable--and a relatively good GPA overall at a 3.78. Below average for an Ivy school, but you've got time to bring it up if that's your goal." The papers are set aside, and in their place he grabs a clipboard. "Why do you want this job? What is your goal?"

 

There is no sense in lying, so he doesn't. "I think it would be an incredible opportunity for me to advance my skills by working with someone who's accomplished and well respected in the community, and it looks good on a resume to have done so. When I've completed my courses here, I want the best chance I can get to be accepted when I try and transfer somewhere else."

 

Dr. Valentine doesn't comment, he just writes a note on his clipboard with an appraising "hm" and continues. "Next question: what is your biggest weakness in the workplace?"

 

"I'm extremely detail oriented, and it occasionally leads me to--"

 

The man clicks his tongue in disapproval, underlining something he had written before setting down his notes and leaning forward in his chair to steeple his hands on the desktop. "You were so honest on the last question, Mr. Cavanaugh, why not on this one? You'll force me to have to list 'liar' beneath weaknesses." He clicks his pen a few times thoughtfully, leaning back somewhat in his chair and giving him a bit of space to answer without being so close. "I am not the unpaid intern in Human Resources who will throw out any application that doesn't have the standard buzzwords. We're having a conversation, you will answer me like it's one. Try again."

 

He clears his throat, adjusting his glasses out of nervous habit before trusting himself to speak again. "I'm a horrible public speaker, I can't stand the thought of having to present to others with all of the attention on me, and I've often deferred to other classmates to bear that part of it. I'm much more comfortable to be in the background than to be on the centerstage."

 

"See? Honesty isn't so difficult now, is it?" Dr. Valentine's expression wears a thin smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes, and there is little else about him that indicates he is pleased with this answer. He picks his clipboard back up, scribbling something onto it before ending with a sharp jab of a period. "Now, why shouldn't that stop me from hiring you? After all, a TA would be required to do presentations on occasion, and many professors expect you to be leading lectures on your own." The unspoken part is 'not me, of course, but others'.

 

"Because you're not a professor who is one to shunt his work onto others. I've watched you with other TAs, and you never once had one of them behind the lectern. I do excellent otherwise, and my weakness is in an area where you wouldn't want to be utilizing me anyway."

 

The professor smirks somewhat as he writes. "You pay attention. An important trait for any assistant." His expression wavers somewhat, and he gives an irritated sniff before plucking a tissue from the box on the corner of his desk and giving his nose a vigorous rub. "You are unlikely to be thrust directly into the spotlight, you will be eased into it, but I would be doing you, as well as myself, a disservice in not properly equipping you to handle all potential aspects of your job, including leading a class. I would never leave you without thorough and extensive notes, and would ensure I was in the room with you to answer questions or assist you in another manner, so you can be assured you wouldn't be left with no resources or backup. Would these accommodations be acceptable?"

 

It's the first time he feels like he's actually breathed this whole interview. Monty lets his posture relax somewhat, adjusting his glasses briefly to occupy his hands. "I could make that work, yes."

 

"This is no promise of a job, you understand. We still need to run through the rest of our interview."

 

"Of course, I understand."

 

"Good. Next question: do you own a dog?"

 

The question strikes him so by surprise he's sure it comes across on his face. "Do I own a dog?"

 

"I need a teacher's assistant, not a parrot. Yes, that is what I asked. If you want to continue this interview, I suggest you answer the question."

 

"I do, yeah. A German Shepherd named Dolly."

 

He sniffs sharply as he makes a mark on the paper. "Noted. The pay for this position was listed when you applied. I'm aware it isn't the most illustrious, but there is an opportunity for negotiation on this after your first month, if you've proven yourself to be deserving of it. Will that be an issue?"

 

"No. It's actually more than I make at my other job, so this would let me drop the hours on that somewhat and let me focus more on this." He bites back the urge to ask what the question about his dog was about, if not to simply throw him off his game, which he's heard is something the doctor frequently does. "That shouldn't interfere with my time here, though, I'm available during your office hours and my schedule is mostly clear during your class days this coming quarter, so I can work that around whatever my course load and hours here end up."

 

"That takes care of my question for later, then. Now, you've taken my class before, and you've--hold on." He cuts himself off, holds up an index finger as he turns away with a wavering breath. His shoulder rise sharply as he gasps, then ducks into his elbow. "hH'RRRASHue! 'RRISH'ue!" He sneezes violently, holding his position for a second longer than strictly necessary before he lowers his arm with a sniff and plucks a pair of tissues from the box to blow his nose into. "Excuse me." He sniffs sharply again and squirts some sanitizer into his palm.

 

"Bless you, Doctor!"

 

He ignores the blessing, picking up where he left instead. "As I was saying, you've taken my classes before. You know my teaching style, and by extension, me. Are you willing to compliment this, rather than attempt to change it?"

 

"I am. You're very straightforward and efficient, and I think with my assistance the technological aspects would be smoother. The fiddly background bits are where I really shine."

 

"Are you adaptable enough to shine with whatever technology and systems it may be that the University has deemed itself willing to shill?"

 

"If not, I'm more than willing to spend the time watching videos or listening to hold music for the customer support." His eyes are locked on the doctor as he swipes at his nose with the tissues again with an irritated scowl. "Are you--"

 

Dr. Valentine cuts him off with a gasp that goes nowhere, leaving him blinking away moisture that isn't quite far enough to consider tears just yet, but whatever it is that's bothering him seems to be worming its way deeper, spreading from simply a pair of sneezes into watery eyes and nostrils that are just barely damp and pink as he sniffs again. "Customer Support is an oxymoron. If I can consign someone else to its flames, I will be all the happier for it."

 

"I've spent my fair share of time sitting with nothing but the Muzak and my thoughts."

 

"Then you're inoculated against the worst part of learning these new programs." He glances at his wristwatch, and Monty glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. 3:13.

 

"I'd say I am."

 

"So," he plucks another pair of tissues and swipes again at nostrils rapidly beginning to darken from a shade of pink to a shade of red, the sniffling taking on a decidedly wet sound as it progresses, "there is one other important point of your job that we need to discuss. You will, from time to time, be required to discipline your fellow students. I don't expect you to come at them with a rod, but I do expect that, when it is your time to present a lesson, you keep order in my classroom."

 

"What would that look like for me as a TA? Would you grant me the same authority to deduct points from exams, or to have them leave the lecture for disruption?"

 

"I'm not deputizing you to be Machiavelli, but I will take your input under advisement, and support your decisions regarding discipline. You may consider me your instrument of authority in the moments in which it has been ceded to you." He sniffs sharply, and once again extends an index finger with a wavering breath, before he curls into his elbow with an absolutely wrenching, "hAH-! 'RRRSH! RRASH'ue!" and another overly liquidy sniffle that sees him turning his chair away completely to blow his nose forcefully against the mounting congestion. He turns back after he seems somewhat satisfied, though it's growing more evident that the satisfaction won't last long. He looks, to put it mildly, fucking miserable

 

The idea of disciplining other students still doesn't sound appetizing, but he wants the job, and there's not really any way around it. "I don't like the idea, but I do feel more confident knowing I would have your backing."

 

The doctor scribbles something on the paperwork, flipping to another page of it. "That concludes my questions for you. Do you have any questions for me?" Red-rimmed eyes, nearly the same color as the nose that threatens to betray him again, look up from his clipboard, shiny with unspent tears held in check by whatever is in his system.

 

"Are you, uh...allergic to dogs?"

 

The look he gives him is one that starts off giving little away, before his brows pinch together and he mutters something hurriedly beneath his breath, turns his chair away--again--and sneezes--again. "hH'RRRSHuh!" He looks unsure of himself for a second, the tissues still pressed over his nose, before he finally sighs and progresses from the threat of another sneeze to a harsh sniff, a steadily less efficient attempt at blowing his nose, and a second harsh sniff before he turns back. "I am. Which brings us to my next point. Congratulations, you've got the position."

 

"Oh! That's gre--"

 

"On one condition." He stands from his chair and leans forward across the desk to bring them closer to one another. "You will keep a change of clothes here, or in your car, or on Pluto if that's what it takes, or you will shower every single day before you come here, but you will not wear anything into this office again that is covered in dander. I don't intend to medicate for allergies year-round, and this is my office more than it will be yours. Are you amenable to this? It will be added to your paperwork as stipulation."

 

"I, uh--yes. I can make that work. Yes."

 

"Excellent. Then sign here, and get ye gone."

 

⁂

 

He emerges several minutes later from the office, the sound of yet another sneeze following him out before the door closes behind him. He instinctively skitters further down the hall, away from the office, before pulling his phone out and dialing his sister's number.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Annie." He breathes a sigh of relief at her voice, and leans his head against the window pane. Students are scurrying like ants down below on the paved brick. "I just wanted to check in with you."

 

"Well, you know how it is on Tuesdays." She doesn't elaborate on what that actually means, and even through the crackle of the phone line and the conversations in the background, he can practically hear the frown in her voice. "Today was your interview, right? Did it...?"

 

"It went well. Really well, actually, I got the position."

 

"That's fantastic! You were applying to TA, right?"

 

"I was! Or I--I guess I am, now. There's just--uh, well there's one thing about it, I guess. It's for--do you remember that professor I told you about a couple quarters ago?"

 

"Oh, T..."

 

He winces at her tone. "Yeah. It's --... yeah. Uh, it's him. The interview went well and all--I mean, I got the position after all--but it's going to mean...you know...spending a lot of time around someone I can't really get a read on, and who I don't think really wants to have time spent around him."

 

"Well, I'll give you two pieces of sisterly advice. Number one: if he didn't want someone around, he wouldn't have opened the position. Clearly he thinks you're good enough to hack it, so don't get all weird and in your head about it. Number two: if he tries anything, I'll fly back over there and kick his ass for you. Number three--"

 

"I thought you said there were only two pieces of advice?"

 

"The second one was a freebie, it doesn't count. Number three: be prepared to say no. I know you like to be helpful and all, but you also need to set your boundaries. Don't let him walk all over you like a word I can't say while having a phone call near kids on the city bus."

 

"I think honestly the biggest issue is that he's allergic to dogs."

 

"Given that Dolly sheds an entire dog every day, I'd call that a reasonable assumption."

 

"It's not the hair that triggers it, really. It's the saliva and dander, and her coat can trap dust or pollen and--"

 

"And you still walk in with a fur coat every day. How bad was it?"

 

"I stopped counting after like a dozen sneezes within our hour interview. I may have hearing loss."

 

She laughs, and he smiles at the sound. He wishes again that she didn't live out of state. "Well, start hittin' him with the 'mines, then."

 

"The antihista- variety?"

 

"The very ones. Hey, I've gotta go, it's almost my stop and I'll have to run to make it to my shift on time, but I'm proud of you! And I'm serious about the boundaries thing--be an agreeable assistant, but firm."

 

"Have a good day at work, Annie."

 

"Promise me."

 

"Annie--"

 

"I'm not hanging up until my sweet little baby brother promises he's not gonna let his jerkoff boss treat him like a doormat."

 

"Aren't you on the bus still?"

 

"Monty!"

 

"Okay, okay! I promise! Go to work!"

 

The little disconnect chime sounds, and he drops his phone to his lap in relief. This year is going to be an exceptionally long one.

Edited February 24 by gay-for-the-snz

[funbusej]

Oh, I LIKE where this is going...or where it has gone?  Not sure if this is being continued or not, but I would be very happy if it was!

[starpollen]

Lovely!  Yes, would definitely enjoy more with these characters. 🥳

[Catsgotyourtounge]

This is so good

[AllyKabbet]

Oh God! This is so good and is SO well-written!

[Cedar]

This is so well done!

[RipleyToo]

He should catch a cold next  

[jc475]

This is really good. I hope there is a part 2.