Another Day (3) - Greg McIntosh

"Sure," the woman asked, "Why Not?"
Why Not! Why not indeed.  It was all I could do not to laugh.  Well, that's a lie.  I'm virtually incapable of laughter or expressing any emotion when I'm wearing the suit.  Years as a recruitment officer does that to you.  If any of them could see me at home, with Fluffy, they'd never believe it was me.
Anyway, we gave her the papers, the time and place, and got back in the car (black of course).
"Where to next?" I asked my partner, Steve or Sven or Marcus or whoever was with me that day. (One of the guys for sure, but on the job we all act alike.)
"Guy named Ian Wallace, should be at the mall."
"Great.  Maybe we'll have time to go shopping."
He didn't answer.  I think it was Marcus.  Guy has no sense of humor.  I mean, none of us are supposed to, but I've never even seen Marcus laugh off duty.  We drove on silently for a while, but I hate long conversationless pauses.  This never was my dream job.  I'm not cutout for this work.  But then, none of us are.  The Recruiters are the leftovers.  The people who really did have nothing to lose.  Most people; finish their mission, have some epiphany and they know what they want to do with their life.  We're the ones who finished our mission and still couldn't find anything else.  Except Marcus.  I really think Marcus likes it.
Anyhow, I said to Marcus, to break the silence,
"What's with all the black anyway? Why do we have to look like we just walked out of the Matrix to be recruiters?"
"You know why," he replied boredly, "We can't standout in any way.  The recruitee's decision must be based on their own desperate situation, not on impressions of us. We must-"
"Be totally emotionaless, personalitiless, and uninteresting," I finished for him, "I know the creed, but I still think we could be uninteresting in something more comfortable."
He didn't answer again.  It was definitely Marcus.  What a piece of work.