Eric Bittle loved to bake. So much he decided to make a career out of it. After getting into Samwell University, Bitty decided he needed a job to help pay for his tuition. After all, that southern hospitality doesn’t just stop once you leave the south.
The Haus was a privately owned restaurant in the middle of Boston. It was a quaint-looking building. Bitty went in with his meager resume. As soon as he smelled the baked goods, Bits relaxed. He was in the right place and more excited than ever.
“H-hello? I’m here to present my resume.” Bitty looked behind the counter, searching for evidence of human life.
“Ah! You must be Eric Bittle!” The female voice came out loud in the nearly silent. “Come on back!” Bitty followed it to the office.
The young woman sitting in the chair looked no older than him.
“Sit down, Eric!” She smiled, brightly. “I’m Lardo!”
“Nice to meet you!”
And the interview commenced.
Fifteen minutes later, Lardo held out her hand.
“It was really nice to meet you Eric.”
“I keep catching that accent. You sound a long ways from home.” She said, curiosity getting the better of her.
“I am. I hail from a small town in Georgia. My family has lived there for a long long time. Dad was my hometown football coach, Mama practically raised me in our local bakery...it’s a far cry from Boston.”
“Wow! Amazing. Well, our little bakery section is a lovely family so I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Boston’s a huge city, so it’s important to find those small niches.”
Bitty left the interview light as air.