"I am very unhappy."
"About?" Magus asked looking at the giant man sitting slumped down in the office chair.
"Everything," Nestor said. He sighed dejectedly.
Magus said, "When was the last time you were happy?"
"When I was in college," Nestor said. Just thinking about his college days brought a smile to his face and he sat up straighter.
"Did you go to a lot of parties?" Magus asked.
"No. I don't like parties. I liked going to classes," Nestor said.
Magus asked, "What was your major?"
"English literature. I really enjoyed reading and discussing poetry in my classes and with my classmates," Nestor said. "I like poetry. I like poetry a lot. I guess you could say that I love poetry."
"So we have established that you were happy in college reading and discussing poetry. Why did your happy days come to an end?" Magus asked.
"I graduated," Nestor said.
"That does happen on occasion; not often enough but on occasion," Magus said. "What happened upon graduating?"
"I had to get a job," Nestor said. A pained expression flashed across his face and he crumpled back into his chair.
"Did you want a job?" Magus asked.
"Yes," Nestor answered.
"Did you get a job?" Magus asked.
"Yes," Nestor answered.
Magus asked, "What job did you get?"
Nestor answered, "It took a while to find a job. I mean, there aren't many job ads for people who like poetry. I kept looking and finally found a job waiting on tables."
"So you became a waiter. How was it?" Magus asked.
"A big guy like me should not be carrying food around in a crowded restaurant. I couldn't move without bumping into people, chairs, or tables. I dropped more food than I delivered. That job didn't even last a week," Nestor said.
Magus asked, "How did you feel about that?"
"Bad, but I continued to look for work. I found another job after a while," Nestor said.
Magus said, "Good. What job did you get?"
Nestor said, "I got a job as a parking lot attendant. I was really looking forward to it. I figured that I would have a lot of time to read poetry and it would be a relatively low stress job."
"That sounds like a good job for you," Magus said.
"Unfortunately, I discovered that I couldn't fit in the booth," Nestor said. "It was short and kind of narrow."
Magus said, "You are a rather large man. What happened?"
"Everything was okay at first. I sat outside the booth, read poetry, and collected money from the patrons. Then one day, about a week after I started, it began raining cats and dogs. I forced my way into the booth to keep from getting wet. I was stuck for three hours before anyone noticed. The fire department had to take the booth apart to get me out," Nestor said. His cheeks turned red.
"I can see where that might be embarrassing," Magus said. Although Nestor was a pretty big guy, the booth must have been pretty small for him to get stuck in it.
"I was embarrassed while they were trying to get me out. Then I was depressed because I was unemployed again. It was not one of my better days," Nestor said.
Magus said, "I can see why you might say that. Then what happened?"
"It took a couple of months, but I got the job I have now," Nestor said. He sat there looking like the poster child of misery.
"Where do you work?" Magus asked.
Nestor whimpered. To see a guy that big whimper was pretty disturbing. He mumbled something that Magus couldn't quite hear. Magus asked, "Where?"
After getting control of his emotions, Nestor answered, "At the Department of Motor Vehicles."
"Ooh," Magus said flinching. Afraid to hear the answer, he asked, "Doing what?"
"Vehicle registrations. All day long I hand out license plates," Nestor said. A tear leaked out the corner of his eye.
Magus asked, "How is your job working out?"
"All day long there is a line of people ... of crabby people renewing their vehicle registrations. After an hour, their faces just blur into blobs of frowning snarling mean grotesque snarling hateful spiteful nasty... ," Nestor said slowly fading out as he ran out of adjectives. He shuddered and then said, "The horror."
"I take it you don't like your job," Magus said.
Nestor said, "The ad should have said that poets need not apply. It is a job guaranteed to kill a sensitive soul like mine. I've been there a year."
Having established that the job was one sore point in Nestor's life, Magus asked, "Are you married?"
"No," Nestor said.
"Dating anyone?" Magus asked.
"No."
Magus asked, "Why not?"
"I can't look at people after working a whole day in the DMV. It doesn't matter how beautiful a woman is; I look at her and imagine her in line 6 at the DMV. The mental image that conjures just isn't all that pretty. I spend my weekends hiding in a corner and shivering," Nestor said.
"I can see where that might get in the way of dating," Magus said.
"It does."
Magus asked, "Have you thought about quitting your job?"
"I'm trapped. I have bills to pay and a degree in a subject that doesn't lead to a high paying job," Nestor said. He sighed and slumped even further down in his chair.
"I can see how you might feel trapped," Magus said. He was silent for a minute. Finally, he asked, "How is your health?"
"Not so good. I can't sleep at night. My stomach is producing acid like it was a chemical factory owned by Dow. My muscles are so tense that I can barely walk like a human being. I have constant headaches," Nestor said.
Magus asked, "Have you been to a doctor?"
"Yes," Nestor said.
"What did your doctor say?" Magus asked.
"He says that it is stress. He gave me some pills to take. They have helped a little. They get me through the first hour of work. I've been going to a therapist, but an hour with him versus eight hours of facing an endless line of crabby irritated angry mad furious inhuman... ," Nestor answered fading out when he ran out of adjectives.
"I see," Magus said. "Tell me about your perfect job."
Nestor said, "Well, I'd like a job that has a bit of up time and a bit of down time. Kind of like a chauffeur where you drive a bit and then wait for the person to finish his business. It would give me a chance to read a bit of poetry without being in a position where I'm not doing my job. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yes, I do," Magus answered. "Do any other characteristics of your perfect job come to mind?"
"Chauffeur would be okay, but I don't want to be sitting all day. I would like to be a little more physical than that. I'm a big guy and I like moving around and using my muscles occasionally."
"Interesting," Magus said.
"Speaking of being a big guy, I'd like a job where that isn't a negative. Cubicles drive me crazy because I pretty much take up all the space in them. I'd liked to avoid jobs requiring me to work in small enclosed spaces. To tell the truth, I don't want to get stuck in a booth again."
"Understandable," Magus said.
"Despite my complaints about my job, I do like talking to people. I just don't like an endless line of crabby irritated angry frustrated mad frowning... ," Nestor said fading out when he ran out of adjectives.
Magus said, "So I take it your ideal job is one where your big size is an advantage, you deal a little with people, you move around a bit, and you have some down times to read. Is that about it?"
"Yes, I don't even care if the hours are regular," Nestor said.
"Irene!" Magus shouted. Nestor jumped in surprise at the sudden loud noise.
"What?" Irene shouted.
"Get Igor!" Magus shouted.
"What will I do with him when I get him?" Irene shouted.
Magus turned to Nestor and said, "She used to be a meek quiet little lady. I don't know what happened to her."
"Send him to me," Magus shouted.
"Okay," Irene shouted.
Magus said, "Igor will be here in a minute."
"Who is Igor?" Nestor said frowning.
"He's a smaller version of you," Magus answered.
"Oh," Nestor said not knowing how to interpret that answer.
Magus asked, "So what do you think of the weather?"
"I don't get out much," Nestor said.
"What do you think of gorgeous women?" Magus asked.
"I like them," Nestor said shrugging his shoulders.
"They kind of make me uncomfortable," Magus said.
"I've seen a lot of guys get tongue tied around pretty women. I'm not that way," Nestor said.
Magus asked, "Do you have any problems with telling a gorgeous woman no?"
"Hey, I work at the DMV. I can tell anyone no," Nestor said.
"That's a real talent," Magus said.
Igor entered the office and said, "You summoned me?"
"Yes," Magus said. "Take Nestor to your office and tell him what you do."
"Why should I take him to the office to tell him that?" Igor asked.
Magus said, "It will give you a chance to explain all your duties without making you stand there for an hour."
Igor turned to Nestor and said, "I sit around most of the day. Occasionally Magus bellows and I do what he tells me to do. That's my job."
"Oh," Nestor said.
Magus waited for more details and then asked, "Are you done?"
"Yes," Igor answered.
"Okay," Magus said.
"Do you need anything else?" Igor asked.
"No. You can go back to your office now," Magus said.
"Thanks," Igor said. "I was in the middle of a very interesting book on the fall of Rome."
"Okay," Magus said. He looked at Nestor and asked, "Does his job sound interesting to you?"
"Yes," Nestor said watching Igor leave. He wondered what kind of parent would name their child Igor.
Magus said, "The employee benefits are health insurance, tuition reimbursement, free housing, and a book allowance."
"That's pretty good," Nestor said.
"The best part of the job is you'll get to work with Titus. He's a lot like me; he is just not quite as handsome, polished, mature, and debonair as I am," Magus said. He ignored Irene's laughter.
"Are you offering me a job?" Nestor asked.
"Yes," Magus said. "The pay is a little more than you make at the DMV."
"That sounds a whole lot better than the DMV," Nestor said.
Magus cleared his throat and then said, "There is one other job condition."
"What is it?" Nestor asked suspiciously.
"We get to call you Hagar," Magus said.
"Hagar? Why Hagar?" Nestor asked.
"It sounds tougher than Nestor. You say Nestor and you think of a bird sitting on an egg. You say Hagar and you think of a barbarian at the gate," Magus said.
"I like my name," Nestor said.
Magus said, "It is a perfectly wonderful name for use in companionable conversation around the coffee table, particularly when the conversation is about poetry. We'll call you Nestor most of the time. It is just that when you're working we'll call you Hagar."
"I guess that calling me Hagar would be okay, but only at work," Nestor said.
Magus said, "I did mention that you would be working with Titus, didn't I?"
"You did," Nestor said.
"Titus has a little problem at the moment," Magus said trying to put the situation delicately.
"What kind of problem?"
"He's being stalked," Magus said. He lowered his voice on the last word.
"A stalker?" Nestor said wondering how he would deal with a crazy person. He was actually a pretty non-violent guy despite his size.
"No. More like stalkers -- plural," Magus said. Seeing the expression of concern on Nestor's face, Magus said, "Don't look so worried. They aren't violent. It is just that gorgeous women find Titus irresistible. They chase after him like he's the last ice cream sundae at a fat farm."
"Gorgeous women chase him?" Nestor asked skeptically.
"Gorgeous women find intelligent men like me and Titus irresistible. It's a curse," Magus said.
Nestor asked, "A curse?"
"Most of these beautiful women figure their children will have their looks and our brains," Magus said and then laughed. "They don't know that God is a practical joker. The children end up with our looks and their brains. You've got to love God."
"I've heard that about God being a practical joker before," Nestor said. It was, in fact, one of his father's favorite sayings. "So what am I supposed to do with these gorgeous women?"
"Well, all you've got to do is stand between Titus and a gorgeous woman so that she can't get her hooks into him. Once you have her attention, you tell her no for him," Magus said. "Igor says that it helps if you growl and look big in the process."
"I can growl and look big," Nestor said.
"Excellent. I figure in a couple weeks you will have chased off the dozen women pursuing Titus," Magus said.
"Dozen?"
"Titus!" Magus yelled.
"What?" Titus shouted.
"Come here!" Magus shouted.
"Okay!" Titus shouted.
Nestor rubbed his ear and asked, "Haven't you ever heard of an intercom?"
"Yes," Magus answered.
"Ever consider using one?" Nestor asked.
"I have considered it," Magus answered.
"And?"
"I won't consider it."
Titus walked into the room and said, "You bellowed, mighty man with lungs of infinite capacity?"
"Yes," Magus said.
"What do you want?" Titus asked.
Magus gestured towards Nestor and asked, "What do you think?"
He looked over at Nestor and said, "Whoa! This guy could be a Hagar."
Nestor stared at Titus.
"Titus, meet Hagar. He is your very own Igor," Magus said.
"I'm getting an Igor of my own?" Titus asked excitedly. He looked a lot like a teenage boy getting handed the keys to his very own car.
"Yes," Magus said. He looked a lot like a father proudly handing the keys to a new car to his son.
"Oh boy. I can't wait to try him out on one of my problems," Titus said rubbing his hands together excitedly. He looked at Nestor for a moment and then asked, "Can you deal with a gorgeous woman without turning into a blithering idiot?"
"Yes," Nestor said confidently. He didn't think that Titus was good looking enough to attract a plain woman much less a gorgeous one. He had expected a Fabio type.
"Why are you so confident of that?" Titus asked.
"Until today, I worked at the DMV," Nestor answered.
Titus held up his hands and said, "Enough said."