Almost two weeks pass by since the exam.

I spend most of my time lazing around and playing video games, waiting for the results. Mother occasionally nags me to apply for more companies in the meantime, but I keep procrastinating it.

Truth to be told, with my weak background, the chances of being accepted aren’t very high. Even if their job requirements are exaggerated on paper, it still means that they’d favor people with more experience or a higher academic degree.

My only source of comfort is how I nailed the “Bonus Stage”, beating that sharp-tongued woman; it’s an achievement on par with a platinum trophy.

RING RING RING

I leap on my phone like a hungry wolf.

“Hello!?”

“Am I speaking with Nick?”

“Y-yes!”

“I’m calling from Anomalia, about your interview for a position in our company.”

T-this is it.

The big moment. Judgment day.

“I’d like to inform you that you were accepted for the job you were applying to.”

Ah...

Ah...!

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!

“Is the job still relevant for you?”

“Of course!”

I quickly dash to grab a pen and a piece of paper, to write down every single relevant detail.

The rest of the phone call dumps me with information about various procedures. After writing everything down and finishing the call, I burst into another victorious shout.

“HELL YEEEEEEAH!!!”

I did it.

I still can’t believe it, but I somehow did it!

On joyful occasions such as these, I’m willing to take the initiative and to text my mother about the good news. She’d probably call me to discuss everything in more detail, but I’m in a GREAT mood right now, I’m willing to deal with that hassle.

The following couple of days are spent on sorting out contract papers. The company sent me the papers via email and I go over them with mother.

Or rather, she goes over most of them herself; she understands these things a lot better than I do. With that tedious work out of the way, I’m finally told to visit the company for my first day of work.

After a ride of nearly an hour by bus and train combined, I finally reach the company branch in which I’ll be working.

A huge, tall building greets me as I follow the directions of a navigation app. It’s difficult to contain my excitement when I witness the magnitude of the company.

Before putting the phone away, I bother to answer mother’s text messages. As expected, she managed to slip a “Have you arrived?” message somewhere along my train ride.

I ignored it earlier, but now is a good time to send back a short “Yes”. Once done, I turn off the navigation app save battery and approach the building’s entrance.

It’s closed.

A transparent automatic door blocks my way and it doesn’t open up even when I’m about to bump into it.

I peek inside and see people working busily, which means that the place itself isn’t closed down. Is there a bug in the door? Have I found a bug as soon as I arrived?! That gotta be some record.

A woman from inside notices me and points to my right, toward an intercom placed by the door. I ring the intercom and it emits a sound similar to a phone call.

“Yes?”

A feminine voice answers from the other side.

“Um, I was told to come here at 12:00... I’m supposed to start working today.”

“Your name and ID?”

I confirm the details with her and the door opens. When I enter the building, they demand to pass my bag through a scanning machine. This is some heavy security right there, all I brought along are a bottle of water and a sandwich (prepared by mother).

Once the security hassle is over, I’m called to the counter.

“Before you begin, you must get your personal ID card. You’ll also briefed about conducting yourself in the building.”

I follow the woman as she leads me toward the elevator. She flashes a silver card in front of the elevator and a BEEP resounds.

In a few seconds, the elevator arrives and the door opens up.

“Good luck.”

“T-thanks.”

She flashes her card inside the elevator again and then presses “2” on the digital screen. All these exaggerated procedures are piling up stress.

Why would you need an ID card to control the elevator? Just how much of a control freak is this company!?

Floor 2 is filled with administrative offices of various types.

This is essentially where all the tiring paperwork is being handled, as well as where workers get their ID card. Luckily, they prepared the card in advance and I don’t have to wait for it to manufactured.

“You’ll have to pass this card in many places, so get used to carrying it around.”

The elderly office woman advises me as she hands me my ID card. It’s a silver card with brief personal info and a passport photo.

“Is there anything else beyond operating the elevator?”

“Indeed there is. You pass it to enter the building and you also pass it to exit.”

“Hah.”

“On top of that, you’ll also need to pass it by your office to lock and unlock it. We hardly use keys inside the building.”

“I see...”

It sounds like this company has an unhealthy dependence on these cards. Is there anything I CAN do in this building in case I lose the card?

I’m too scared to ask.

“Other than handing you the card, I’m also obligated to tell you about staying confidential”

“Hm?”

“You may already know this after signing the contract, but you are required to not share information about the company with external sources.”

“Oh, yes.”

I did sign something like that... I think. Mother took charge of the papers, I hardly got to read anything.

The woman discusses additional details about being confidential, such as not snapping photos with my phone. Eventually, she releases me from the lecture hell and tells me about my next destination.

“You are assigned to the ‘Artificial Imprinting’ department, that’s on floor 6.”

The name doesn’t tell me much, but it sounds interesting enough.

“According to to what I was told, the one in charge of you is called Eric. You should go directly to him.”

“Got it.”

“Other than that, you should know that on floor 1 there’s a cafeteria, in case you want to buy lunch. The company doesn’t provide free lunches.”

Mother prepared me a sandwich ahead of time, so I don’t need to waste money here.

“These are all the floors you have access to: 1, 2 and 6. The others aren’t relevant for you.”

“I understand.”

With that, my briefing ends and I leave the office.

I approach the elevator and mimic the woman from the counter. My silver card is properly recognized by the reader on the wall.

The elevator arrives after a couple of seconds. Once inside, I pass the card by another reader and click on number 6.

This is it.

The irrelevant administrative procedures are beyond me.

Now it’s only me and the job.

Huzzah!