Operation Food Court

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Why am I at the food court in Four Hills mall at eleven o’clock a.m.? 
Don’t you worry about it.
Just keep walking, mister. This doesn’t concern you. I got business, important things to attend to. Don’t look at that. That’s all part of it, don’t you worry. Yeah, I still use manilla envelopes. Call me old fashioned, but you can’t hack into a manilla envelope, no matter how hard you try. Just try. Things of such high importance, of such high calibre, can’t be trusted to sit on a hard drive, vulnerable, weak, exposed, raw as flesh. No. Avert your eyes. Take a step back. Or two. Better yet, skedaddle. Don’t get yourself involved in this. It’ll only come back to bite you. Get out while you can. Go for a walk. Get yourself a coffee. Get out of here, far away. The sooner the better. It’s for your own good, don’t you know.
Serious.
He’ll be here soon, so take a hike, capisce? It takes a special quality, a certain character, to navigate such murky affairs as those I wade through on the daily, and you ain’t got it. It takes a lifetime to build a career like mine. Years of sacrifice, perseverance. Hell, I’d get out if I could, but I’m in too deep.
Here he comes.
What’d I tell ya? There he is, there. The one in the blue visor. No, not him. Look with your goddamned eyes for once. For Christ’s sake, no. Him. With the name tag. The khaki shorts, for crying out loud. Fuck me, him, with the apron. Son of a bitch. It’s too late. Just shut your mouth and try not to listen too much. It’s for your own good. Trust me.
“Hi, Mark?”
“That’s me. I’m your man.”
“Is that your resume you got there?”
“Sure is.”
“And who’s this you brought with you?”
“This is Max. But don’t you worry about it.”
“They let you bring a dog in here?”
“Listen, buddy. I call the shots.”
“Is today a bad time for you?”
“Today’s perfect. Couldn’t have chosen a better day.”
“We can always reschedule the interview.”
“Didn’t even cross my mind.”
“You know Max isn’t allowed in the kitchen.”
“Says who?”
“I do.”
“And who are you?”
“Your boss.”
“So I’m hired?”
“No.”
“Not yet.”
“Look, the dog’s gotta go.”
“As it turns out, buddy, we gotta go.”
“It’s probably for the best.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Bye then.”
“It was nice meeting you, Mark.”

What’d I tell ya, Max? You never know in this business. You just never know.

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