No cloth bag this time. Empty hands. I forced my hunched back as straight as it would go.
The young security guard was still at the entrance. Recognition flickered across his face, followed by a frown.
"You again?"
I forced a humble smile.
"Comrade, I'm not looking for Mr. Lambert today. I… I'm here to apply for a job. Is the company hiring security? Do you think I could do it?"
He looked at me like I'd told a joke. A snort escaped him.
"Apply? Old man, are you serious? Even our guards need a high school diploma and a physical. Look at you. How old are you?"
He waved his hand like he was shooing a fly.
"Get lost. You're blocking the way."
Heat rushed to my face, but I held my ground.
"I haven't studied much, but I have strength. I'm serious. Look—"
"No! Leave!"
Just as I stood there, paralyzed by shame, the revolving doors spun.
Two figures emerged.
My son. And his cousin—my eldest niece—dressed in flashy, expensive clothes.
They were laughing, heading out for lunch.
My niece had sharp eyes. She spotted me instantly and let out a theatrical shriek.
"Oh my god! Who is this? Isn't it the sanitation-worker grandpa from the village?"
Her smirk widened, voice shrill enough to turn heads.