TWO
MORNING MONOLOGUES
233
and the box opens. You will find a toy prize on top; a toy plane,
crossed snow-shoes, a tiny loving cup.
About eight months ago the report was going around that the
war was opening new jobs and for the space of a week I actually
went from place to place renewing my applications. My father was
excited. "You'll get it now. Now you'll get. Wait just, and we'll
see." The crowds were large. I used to hate to make the rounds
because I saw so many acquaintances. We had to stand around,
we lied to each other and we were embarrassed. Afterwards I dis–
covered there was no need to; after all. ...
The word spread that companies were hiring and the agencies
were surprised by an inrush of jobhunters. lt wasn't true and there
were no jobs, but there was a temporary stir and I would walk
through the lobbies to the elevator quickly, head up, as though my
business there had the support of purpose and money and influence.
But upstairs I was reduced to the well-remembered waiting, sitting
on benches, crossing and re-crossing my legs with the others, reading
the signs forbidding smoking and stating the rates of the agency.
People behave differently now around these places. They used to
sit apart, more stiffiy to themselves, while listening for their names.
They tried to look proper. The way you're advised in school. Let
the employer see a model young man or young woman-clean-cut,
prudent, reliable. Not any more. They sit slumped now and don't
care if there is a little dirt under the fingernails.
But there we were, handing around the papers, smoothing out
the wrinkles, reading what new boats had been torpedoed and fol–
lowing the fight between the bookies and the courts.
For a whole week I was busy this way. I had no time to eat
my sandwiches-pale meat on white bread is what they usually
are-and I carried them in my pocket and in the afternoon a faint
spicy smell would spring out. One of the closely curled leaves of
my identity.
I wouldn't think of spending time as I did then hurling myself
against the wall lettered
possible employment
in the hope of strik–
ing the secret panel of the sliding door.
The chief difficulty is in disposing of the day. Home, as I
have said, is barred; the parks, the neighborhood too many others
have successfully graduated from. But you find unusual resources,
