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Story Notes:

How I imagine the whole JAM story started to unfold. No real spoilers that I know of.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

The Interview


The interview was at 12:30, but Jim Halpert had arrived early. He sat in his car, staring up at the gray, faceless building before him, wondering if what was inside was really worth it.

It was summer, and the air was warm and unmoving. It was stifling, sitting in the car (with the engine and AC off) but it was something he always did before a job interview, arriving early and waiting – because then he could give himself time to back out.

It was Thursday, and it was his third interview that week. There had been two the week before. Most were similar jobs, all requiring he wear a shirt and a tie and sit behind a desk, but this one stood out due to its very blandness. A paper company. I am interviewing to work for a paper company. It suddenly struck him as one of those jobs you never thought about, growing up – the paper had to come from somewhere, but you never really thought about it. Never really thought who actually sold it, distributed, where it came from…until were about to do it yourself.

Only if I want to, Jim thought. He had had four interviews already, two that week and two the week before, and he knew one of them would offer the job. This was the last on his list, and from the beginning it had been an afterthought. Scanning through the classified ads and the Department of Workforce Services, he had seen an opening for a sales associate with a small firm in the business area of Scranton. The pay was acceptable, the hours standard, and it didn’t require any previous experience, so he had circled it without much thought. If it had been the first one on the list, he would have done the interview and then forgotten about it – but it was the last, and the last in a line of disappointments.

His interviews had gone well. He always made a good impression on people he met – more than one teacher had told him that – but none of the jobs had jumped out at him. None of the jobs appealed to him. But he had to take one because he was living on his own now, and for the first time could not rely on his parents to support him, as they had during childhood, and during college. Rent was due, and the utilities, and his old job that he had worked for two years in college just didn’t pay enough anymore.

It was his parents who had urged – ordered, really – him to get off his couch and look for something respectable, something that brought in money, something that wouldn’t make them sit up late at nights and wonder how their son was going to take care of himself. His mother had started it, smiling sweetly and cupping his chin. “Jim, honey, it’s time you got a real job – something you can excel in. You’re out of college now, and you’re father and I told you that once you got your degree, it was time that you were on your own. Do you understand?”

His father had been blunter. “Get off your ass, son, and learn to be a man.”

Jim looked at his watch. 12:26. It was time to either get out of the car, or start the engine and drive for home. The latter was more tempting. I don’t want to have this job. I don’t want to sit behind a desk from 9 to 5. I don’t want to tell people I sell paper, or work as a teller, or whatever.

But he had to get a job. He knew that. It doesn’t have to be permanent. You know there’s something else out there, something that will finally, finally just grab you and won’t let go. Something you can feel passionate about. Something you can love.

He couldn’t imagine what he would love inside this big concrete box looming over him.

His hand hovered near his keys for a moment; he touched them with his finger.

Then before he could think otherwise, he seized the door handle and pulled. He grabbed his jacket and stepped out of the car, sighing. At the very least, it’ll be good to have a better paycheck. I can buy a Playstation and take Danielle out on a real date.

He walked inside the building.

***


Everything went downhill after that. Really fast.

When he entered the office, he hadn’t even had time to look around the place, to get a feel, before a small man in a faux-fancy suit and cheap tie had come bounding over to him, grinning from ear to ear. “You must be Halpert! Good to meet you, I am Michael Scott. Regional Manager of the office. The big cheese. The head honcho. Numero uno.” He stopped and waited, seeming to expect something. Jim smiled weakly, taken back by the man’s energy. “Hi – I’m Jim…Jim Halpert.”

“And I am Michael…Michael Scott. King of this orifice. I’m glad you’re here, Jim – wait. Jim, or James?”

“Well, technically James, but I usually go by Jim.”

“Jim. Slim Jim. Jimbo. Got it. It’s too bad you don’t go by James – that’s easy to remember. You’d be like a butler, or a cho…cho…cho-fir. I could use one of those.”

“A chauffer?” said Jim, confused. Since when is Jim not easy to remember?

“I would be happy to be your chauffer, Michael,” said another man, a tall fellow with a large head and oversized glasses.

“Yes, thank you Dwight,” said Michael, waving his hand impatiently. “Well – shall we start the interview? Let me take you to my office – or the throne room, as my servants call it.”

“Do you want me to page Toby?” said the woman behind the reception desk. Jim glanced at her. There was a dull, tired look to her. He had never seen someone look so bored. This does not bode well. He was still completely confused by this man before him.

Michael pretended to gag. “Ew – no, not Toby. Are you trying to kill me, Pam? Or our guest? Do you really want Toby to be his first impression of the place? Work with me Pam. I need you to work with me.”

The girl ignored him, lifting her phone to her ear and saying: “Toby, there’s a Jim Howard here, for his interview.”

“Halpert,” Jim said softly. No one heard him.

“He’s on his way,” said Pam, laying down the phone. Michael sighed. “You really – never mind. Come, Jim, to my personal study.”

Jim followed the man through a door and into a cramped office. There was a giant desk, a small closet, and a couple of chairs, but other than that, it was nothing similar to the previous rooms he had interviewed in. There was a bizarre assortment of toys and knickknacks on the desk, a poster of Bill Murray on the wall, and what looked like an inflatable woman (naked) tucked away in the corner. Michael told him to have a seat, which he did – after moving a book titled Leave ‘Em In Stitches! – Jokes For All Occasions off of the chair.

“Oh, that,” said Michael. “Yes – I am somewhat of a student of comedy, as you no doubt have already guessed. Actually, I’m more like a teacher of comedy.”

He paused. “Or a master.”

Another pause. “Ph.D. I have a Ph.D.”

He looked at Jim, and again there was that kind of expectation there, as if Jim was supposed to laugh. He thought furiously for a response. “Where, um…where did you study?”

“Self-taught!” Michael announced proudly. “Well, I did do some studying – under Professors Carey, Farley, and Hope.” He chuckled.

“Wow,” said Jim, nodding despite himself. Just say what it takes, say what it takes. That’s what his dad had first told him, when explaining to him the best way to interview for a job. “Sounds like quite a program. Must have been hard to get into.”

“That’s what she said.”

Jim stared. “Who said? I - oh.”

And Michael laughed again.

Jim emerged an hour later, more exhausted then he could ever remember being. A few minutes after the “interview” had started, another man named Toby had come in, wearing the same tired expression as the receptionist. He had done most of the real interviewing – while Michael had done most of the talking.

Jim could barely remember most of it when it was done, but along the way he was told that a previous sales associate had quit, for reasons best left unsaid, and Michael was looking for someone to take his place.

“Someone who can approach all sorts of different people,” said Toby.

“And is funny,” said Michael.

“You have to be driven, and willing to chase after something.”

“And good with the ladies.”

“We’re looking for someone with good people skills, generally. I mean, we’re selling paper, so it’s not exactly thrilling.”

“Paper is the most thrilling thing to sell,” corrected Michael, and Jim was astonished to hear the sudden venom in his voice. “Zip it, Toby. It’s clean, white paper, just full of possibilities.”

“Er – yes. Anyway, Jim, if you are interested, you’ll the find the company offers competitive benefits and a chance to move up the ladder.”

“You will also have the chance to be my new best friend.”

“Now, I see you have a college degree.”

Jim sat up. Finally, something I can respond to. “Yes, from Scranton University. I have a Bachelor’s in Communications.”

“And how will that help you here?” asked Toby.

Jim had his answer rehearsed and ready. “Well, it’s given me the means to deal with all sorts of different people. I feel pretty confident saying that I’m good at understanding what people want, what they need, how to both understand their point as well as get my own across to them.”

“Good answer,” said Toby. “Now, the job requires you to be proactive. It means keeping in constant touch with clients, making sure that their office-supply needs are satisfied. It also means a lot of cold calling, which is still the simplest and most direct way to reach out to prospects. It can be unpleasant, sometimes, but it’s crucial. Think you can do that?”

No. “Yes, absolutely,” said Jim.

“And do you – ”

“Bla, bla, bla,” Michael interjected. “Good, fine, good. Jim, you’re hired.”

Jim blinked. Is this another joke?

“Michael – ” Toby began, but got no further.

“I said he’s hired, Toby! Look, he’s a good kid, handsome, clean-cut, smart. And he’s got a good sense of humor, and that’s important. He’s been laughing at all my jokes.”

Jim shook his head slightly, but didn’t dare speak.

Finally Toby sighed in mute agreement. “Alright Michael. Jim, when can you start?”

Jim fidgeted in the chair. “Well, I’m still waiting to hear from a few other places – ”

“I’ll pay double whatever they offer!” Michael cried.

“No, I – seriously?”

Michael’s smile faded. “Well, no…but I can promise you all the paper you’d ever want (to sell) – and a truly wonderful experience. You’ll laugh, Jim. I promise you, you’ll laugh.”

I doubt it. Just then he wanted nothing so much as to bolt. “Well, like I said, I’m still waiting to hear from some other places, but I will certainly let you know.”

“That sounds great Jim,” said Toby. “If you could just drop off a copy of your resume with Pam at the front desk, we’d appreciate it. We look forward to hearing from you.”

The interview over, Jim quickly stood up and shook hands with both men, then scuttled out of the room as fast as he dared.

He stopped at the receptionist’s desk. Her head was bowed, and for a moment he thought she was crying. But when he came closer he found she was doodling on a scrap of paper, drawing what appeared to be… a cup full of pencils.

“Hey, that’s pretty good,” he said. She looked up, surprised. “Oh – thanks. It’s just…it’s nothing, I just like to sketch things. Makes the day go by faster, you know?”

“Totally,” he said. He looked at her a moment. Her hair was a reddish-brown, so curly as to be almost frizzy, tied in a tail behind her. She wore a gray cardigan over a light blue shirt – bland attire, really, and her pony-tail was not much better…but he was suddenly struck by how her face lit up, just for an instant, when he had complimented her drawing. She’s actually pretty cute when she smiles, then mentally shook his head. Where had that come from?

“Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, yes,” he said. He handed her his resume. “Toby asked if I could give this to you.”

“I’ll file it,” she said, taking it from him. “Does this mean they hired you?”

Jim glanced over his shoulder. Michael was still in his office, and the door was closed now. “Yes…I think so. It just sort of came out of the blue, to be honest.”

Pam smiled again. “Oh, you haven’t seen anything. He hired me on the spot when I came here to interview. What did he promise you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What did he promise you, if you worked here? He always promises something.”

“He, uh…he promised me I would laugh.”

“Oh wow, he let you off easy. He promised me ‘an affair to remember.’ He went through a brief Cary Grant phase.”

“Did he wear his pants up high around his chest?”

Pam giggled. It was an oddly affecting sound. “No, thank God.”

“Well, was it?”

“Was what?”

“An affair to remember.”

“It never happened. What was your name again?”

“Jim Halpert.”

“Oh, right. Oh my gosh! I called you Jim Howard before, didn’t I? I’m so sorry.”

Jim couldn’t help but chuckle. “Hey, don’t worry about it. But I guess I’d better go. It was nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. Hope to see you again!”

“Oh, yeah – maybe.”

He turned away and walked towards the door. He glanced back briefly at her, but she had already resumed her sketching, and her bored expression had already returned.
Chapter End Notes:
Next up: Does Jim take the job? Stay tuned!

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