Morgan Finds Help

“What are Kingdoms without Justice? They’re just Gangs of Bandits.” - Saint Augustine. I have vowed that our drug kingdom will not devolve into a gang. Lisa and I agreed to use our funds for justice and peace.

The brunette waitress with golden highlights, a red and white checkered fifties dress uniform, and a forced lip-only smile guides me to a six-person cherry red Formica and chrome-trimmed table. Fifties music, Elvis’s Blue Suede Shoes, plays in the background. I have always loved the cheery red and sunshine yellow splashed diner. The place smells of grease, lavender, and lingering smoke. The bright red plastic and chrome silver chair has a little round burnt hole on the seat, and the six-person table wobbles when I place my elbows on it.

“Something to drink? Coffee, tea, juice?”

“Orange juice, please.”

I sit in the middle of the table to face the double glass door entrance. Neon posters decorate the walls on either side. My three candidates will sit across from me. I have budgeted two hours for the interview. Lisa wants to hire all three, but I need to trust them more than the background checks sitting in my backpack on the seat beside me. When a person builds a drug empire, they need to trust the people in the organization, especially their first employees.

Officially, we only need salespeople, but I also want someone to help with production and my sick father.

Aurora arrives first, fifteen minutes before the stated time. Her long brunette hair shines in the rising sun. Her sheet tells me of her intelligence and drive, and she has worked in retail, but she has homophobic tendencies. Short, almost as short as gymnast Taylor, her baggy black pants hide her chubby hips, but her black sports bra accents her massive chest, with the white, unbuttoned dress shirt drawing attention to her jumbo selling assists. As she approaches, I admire her subtle makeup, highlighting her pale skin and wide smile.