EXTO

ARRA
VO
FRANCISCO
SÍS
 MY DESTINY

Tomorrow I will go to meet my destiny. I will do it without fear, as befits a person of

courage. I will take the bus to go to the company that published the job notice I need so
much. I will sit in one of the seats one by one, by the window, as I usually do. I will
inevitably fall asleep. A thread of drool will fall on my jacket to the displeasure of
everyone present. I'll wake up and try to clean it up with the handkerchief. I don't know
if I will make it.
I will arrive at the immense building, which will have a large, intimidating entrance
hall. I will announce myself to the receptionist, she will tell me to wait to be authorized.
I will be nervous, restless, for the entire time that the wait lasts. I will try not to wrinkle
the suit that cost me so much to buy. I'll fix my tie countless times. The receptionist will
call me by my name. She will tell me to go to the fourteenth floor and ask for mr.
Garcia. I will head to the elevator with a determined step. The aroma of different
perfumes, lotions, tobacco, sweat that will flood the small space will make me a little
dizzy.
Mr. Garcia will receive me with a firm handshake. We will enter your office. He will
call his secretary to order coffee. I will kindly decline the offer. Mr. Garcia will ask me
to give him my resume. I will give it to you. He will read it with a stern gesture, making
slight movements of the head. I'll watch him trying to guess his thoughts. He will throw
the resume on the desk. He will ask me about my studies, my previous experiences, my
references. I will try to speak calmly, to express myself with the greatest correction,
without exalting my conditions too much, without diminishing my abilities.
There will be an awkward silence. Mr. García will deliberate about what was discussed.
In a moment he will move his head to both sides. He will tell me that I am overqualified
for that position, that he will not be able to give it to me, that I will surely find
something in line with my abilities and I will resign after a few months. I will assure
you not. You will assure me that it is. You will tell me you are sorry. I'll offer to cut
your salary for a while so you can reconsider. He will tell me that it is not possible to
occupy a job with me, that they are looking for younger people for that position. I will
not be able to bear such humiliation, such a blow to my self-esteem. He will invite me
to retire. It will tell me that it will consider me for other searches. When I leave the
office I will look a few years older.
I will leave the building defeated. I will look at the sky. I will ask why I should find
myself in that situation after so many years. No response will be drawn in the sky. My
tired steps will take me to the subway. I'll stand on the platform, near the edge. I will see
the lights approaching in the darkness of the tunnel. They will be like a powerful
magnet that will drive me to do something crazy. Discouragement will win the game.
I'll tell myself it's not fair to be treated like human waste. I will close my eyes and let
myself go. At the last moment I will think that there was no possible future, that the last
page in the book of my life would be being written there, the last chapter of my personal
history.