Help Wanted (solo)

The woman in front of Chris put down his resumé and smiled in a forced way.
"I´m sorry, mr Berg, but I´m afraid that you don´t qualify."
Chris felt his heart sank. Sure, he hadn´t exactly expected that he would get the job, but it still wasn´t fun to feel rejected.
The woman in front of him was heavily build, had curly brown hair and a plaque that read HI! My name is MARIE! on her red and black shirt. They were sitting in HI! My name is MARIE!s office, next to the SuperSaveStore´s store-room.
Chris looked down on the paper on the wooden desk in front of HI! My name is MARIE!. Normally, he would just have picked up his resumé, said "thanks anyway" and gone home to call it a day. But since this was the third place that had turned him down that day, and the seventh that week, he just looked up and asked in a quiet voice:
"Why not?"
HI! My name is MARIE! made a sweeping gesture with her hands over the papers on the desk.
"You have no work experience at all, mr Berg."
"I, uh, learn really fast?"
The woman sniffed and looked down at her watch; apparently he wasn´t the only one who wanted this interview to end.
"You don´t have any education, either. You don´t even have a driver´s license."
At this part he´d have given up normally, but something told him that he couldn´t back now. A sudden, fearful thought - I´m going to be unemployed for the rest of my life - bounced through his mind.
"I didn´t know you´d need a college graduation to work at a store, ma´m. Or a car."
HI! My name is MARIE! flinched slightly, but when she responded she spoke with an icy, defensive tone.
"Mr Berg, if you have to know I can tell you why this wouldn´t work. It´s because of the... the smell. I don´t have anything against mutants, absolutely not, but I can´t hire anyone that would damage our reputation. You understand, I´m sure."
Chris´s shoulders sunk, and he looked down on his hands in front of him. The battle was lost. But still, he had to make one final point.
"I could work in the store room? Lift boxes and so on?"
HI! My name is MARIE! just shook her head and pushed his resumé over the desk to him.

Chris walked slowly on the sidewalk with his backpack slumped over one shoulder. He was trying to come to terms with the fact that he would have to be a parasite for the rest of his life. How was he supposed to make a living when nobody even gave him a chance?
The street was empty, so when he suddenly heard someone shout "Goddamnit!" he flinched and turned around. He still couldn´t see anyone, but when he heard a clanging sound and some more muttered swear words from a staircase a few feet away he slowly sneaked forward to see what was causing all the commotion. Down at the bottom of the stairs, that seemed to go down to some kind of cellar under a house, a woman was trying to balance a couple of boxes. At her feet lay a big, empty goldfish bowl.
Chris hesitated, not really sure if he should turn around and go home, but when he watched the woman trying to open the door while still holding on to the boxes he raised his voice.
"Excuse me... ma`am? Do you, uh, need any help with that?"
The woman squinted up along the staircase.
"What? Yeah, sure, I could use a hand."

Chris held on to the big goldfish bowl and opened the robust green wooden door. His eyes widened slightly - the walls inside were covered with aquariums in different sizes. The room was illuminated with a blue shimmering tint from them, and it felt slightly like stepping into an underwater grotto.
"Wow."
"Would you mind stepping in a little? You´re blocking the door."
"Uh, sorry," said Chris and walked into the room. He put down the big glass bowl on a wood counter, next to the cash register. Then he looked around again - next to the desk was a rack with plastic plants, castles, rocks and dry driftwood, and in a corner was a small bookcase with different books and magazines that mostly seemed to be about tropical fish. There were no customers inside. Chris started to walk along the wall next to the counter, looking at the fishes. There were guppies, angelfish, swordtails, barbs, cichlids, rainbowfish, fighting fish... and of course the obligatory goldfish. There were even a tank with small tortoises in it.
Chris heard an "ahem" and turned around to the lady. She was old, somewhere in her sixties, and afro-american. She was short, even shorter than Chris, and stood watching him over her bifocals.
"Sorry," he said again, for no particular reason. "I was just... I´ve never been in a fish shop before."
"I see. Well, knock yourself out, kid." Then she added: "You´re a mutant?"
"Yeah."
"I figured as much. Well, if you see anything you like, feel free to tell me."
"I will."
He continued to walk through the room, looking from aquarium to aquarium. He wasn´t really a pet person, usually he couldn´t see the point in having animals around and not eat them. But this was different. The small, colorful fish were really neat to look on... and they wouldn´t have made much of a meal anyway. Barely even a snack.
"You know much about fish?"
"What? Yeah," he answered, feeling a bit guilty over associating her fish with food. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, nothing," she said with a dismissal handwave. "I just thought, with the webbed fingers and all... ah, nevermind."
Chris had walked past the aquariums and was getting closer to the door. It stood open, with the words Tropic Aqua Lagoon clearly visible. But theen he noticed a small cardboard square taped to the door under the store's name: HELP WANTED. Chris turned around - the woman was inspecting the goldfish bowl, looking for cracks.
"I was just, uh..." he started. "About the "help wanted"- sign..."
"Oh, that?" she said. "You interested?"
Chris nodded. The lady put down the fish bowl and walked up to him. Chris looked away, not really sure how to react to this sudden inspection.
"You know how to handle a cash register?"
"Actually, no," he admitted.
"Hmm." Her expression was suddenly interested. "I guess I could use some help with cleaning, and feeding... why not? You seem like a keen young man. Actually, you could be good for business. Like a gimmick."
She quickly put her hand over her mouth.
"Oh, dear... that was a bit offensive, wasn´t it? I didn´t mean for it to come out that way."
"It´s okay," he said, shrugging. And it really was. If she were going to give him a job, it was more than okay. She could have cursed him and his mother and his family for three generations in five different languages and he wouldn´t have minded right then.
The woman sighed and then offered her hand.
"I´m sorry. My name is Ellie Wilson. I hope you´ll like it here, mr...?"
He shook her hand.
"Chris. Chris Berg."