My trip to the salon went well. Matt, the owner, was very welcoming, gave me the tour of the salon, and led me to his office in back to fill out paperwork. Suddenly I found myself swamped by tax forms and other forms, all asking for information I really didn’t have. I got flustered as I tried to play it cool while telling Matt that I didn’t know my social security number, or that I didn’t have two forms of government ID on me. When he asked about my drivers license, I pulled out my expired license. He sat me down and looked at me hard.

“Shane, I’m willing to work with you here, but I need for you to be honest with me, OK?”

I nodded, thinking how when things seem to good to be true, its cause they are. I should have known things were going too well…

“I’m guessing that you have a… colourful background, am I correct?” I looked up at him, confused and surprised. “Your instructor that I talked to… he briefly told me a bit of your background, at least what he knew or figured. Now, I don’t want to know the details, I don’t need to know the details. I’m willing to give you a chance, because I think you deserve a chance.”

I didn’t know what to say. Was he firing me? Or was he hiring me?

“Here is the address of the social security office and the DMV. You have one week to get a valid drivers license and apply for your social security card. One week, got it?” I nodded, taking the paper with the addresses. “Good. Then let’s fill out the rest of this paperwork and we’ll just fill in the blanks later, OK?” I smiled at him, nodded in agreement, and started filling in what information I could, thinking maybe people weren’t so bad after all.

After leaving the salon with my work schedule in hand, I headed back towards The Planet, hoping to find someone who could direct me to the market and translate the recipe for me. Looking around, I saw Tina at a table in back, talking on the phone. I walked towards her, slowing as I got closer as to not interrupt her call. She saw me and motioned to take a seat.