"You really should look into this--it's a great opportunity," Jack said emphatically on the other end of the line. "Systems International is a real up-and-coming company. Even if you don't take the job, at least go and interview. You'll get a free trip to Europe out of it. Think about it."
"OK, I will. Thanks for calling." I terminated the call, standing and staring at the screen with some disbelief--much to the annoyance of those trying to get past me on the sidewalk. Why had Jack Freeman called me? I barely knew him. Oh we ran into each other at conferences, and we had had a beer or two, but it wasn't like we kept in regular contact otherwise. Now he was calling me on a Wednesday afternoon to offer me a job interview in some country I hadn't even heard of. What was that name again? Rolennia? I'd never heard of it.
I took a seat in coffee shop just to get off the sidewalk and searched the net on my phone to see what I could find out about the place. Turns out Rolennia was once a Barony in the Austria-Hungarian Empire. Later it was absorbed behind the Iron Curtain, and it only recently had emerged as an independent state. It was nestled somewhere among the Hungaries, Czechs and Bulgarias of the world, I couldn't exactly tell because the lettering was too small when viewed on my phone, but it didn't matter since I had only a vague idea where any of those places were anyway.
So why would anyone want to take a job in Rolennia? True, I was looking for a new opportunity, and had made that known through my contact network. I was in a classic Midlife Crisis situation, with a divorce was about to go final and feeling stifled in my job. With both kids away at college, I was free to go anywhere and pursue anything. That sounds great until you're actually in that situation, which is when you realize that it's really scary that there aren't ANY parameters to help you decide what you should do with your life. The thought of trying my hand at living overseas had intrigued me, but I was thinking in terms of Paris or Tokyo, not some backwater burg like Rolennia.
Just as I was closing the browser and getting ready to put my phone away, something caught my eye. I re-opened the browser to make sure I had read it right. There was a list at the bottom of the wiki entry of famous people from Rolennia, of which there were a whole seven. Three were historical figures I had never heard of, one was a politician I had never heard of—and three were porn stars that I definitely
had
heard of. Most notably, one of them was Sophie Sunshine. It was all but impossible to surf for porn without running across her. She was one of the best-known, most popular porn stars in the business. I knew that the states of the old Eastern bloc were a prime provider of talent for the sex industry; apparently Rolennia was no exception. I wondered how common it was to find girls as stunning as Sophie Sunshine in Rolennia. Hmmm. Maybe I should at least listen to their pitch.
I put my phone away and thought no more of it for the next day and a half. That Thursday was particularly stressful, and a call from my divorce lawyer explaining new wrinkles in the settlement didn't help. When I woke up on Friday morning, I saw that I had missed three calls from an unknown caller. What stood out to me was that there seemed to be an awful lot of digits in the callback number. I remembered my conversation with Jack, and realized this might be Rolennia calling. I wasn't sure if I wanted to it or not.
I had just stepped out of the shower and was half-done drying myself when my phone vibrated on the countertop. I picked it up and saw the same number again. I thought for a second, and then took the call. Why not listen to what he had to say? I could always say no. I expected I would, frankly, but by taking his call now I wouldn't risk him calling me while I was at work. "Hello?" I said.
I expected to hear a voice with an accent. I didn't expect it would be a Bronx accent. "Mr. Summers? This is Tom Thurman of Systems International. I hope I didn't wake you?"
"No, I was already up."
"Good. Listen, international calls from Rolennia are expensive so I'm going to keep this brief. You come highly recommended by Jack Freeman. We have an opening that might interest you, and I understand that you might be at a place in your life where you are looking for a new adventure. SI certainly offers that, and a lot more. But rather than take my word for it, we want to you fly you Rolennia and see for yourself. Maybe you have heard of us and maybe you haven't, but once you see the facilities I think you'll be very interested. I know, not that long ago I was where you are today, getting a strange call from a strange country. Now I'm here, and I couldn't be happier."
Good for him... so what?
I thought.
"We would like to fly you out on a Thursday, have you interview on Friday, see a little bit of the country on Saturday, and then fly back Sunday—all at our expense of course. If you don't like what you hear, you still get a free vacation out of it. What do you say?"
That is exactly what I was thinking—a free vacation. Other than jet lag, what did I have to lose? "Well..." I started to say
---------------
Two weeks later, I landed in Yevczich, the capital city of Rolennia. Only city, from what I'd been reading. I was exhausted--I hadn't thought about the fact that by flying out on Thursday, it would be Friday in Europe when I arrived, especially after a three-hour layover in Frankfurt. Fortunately I had slept a little on the plane.
The airport was a tiny, Spartan concrete corridor with only six gates. When I stepped out of the secure area, a man with a long red beard dressed in a livery uniform was standing there, holding up a sign with my name on it. I found that interesting; I really think there are two kinds of men in the world, those that love redheads and those that don't, and I was without question one of the former. Since I was sure he wouldn't have dyed his beard that color, that mean that there were redheads indigenous to this area, something I wouldn't have expected but was pleased to know.
My driver led me to an ancient but well-maintained limousine to drive me the headquarters of Systems International. At first, every building we passed was a drab, concrete, often windowless block built during the Communist period. But then we reached a bridge over a small river and entered the old town, which was cute and quaint as any Austrian ski town. There were half-timbered houses and commercial buildings with the domed roofs popular in prewar Hapsburg architecture. I was pleasantly surprised at the charm--and its generally good condition. "Your old city is very nice," I said with surprise.
"Yes," the driver said haltingly, "Yevczich small. War... pass us by. No bombing." That made sense--Rolennia hadn't been important or big enough for a big battle, so it had been mostly spared.
The sudden widening of the road signaled the transition to the newer part of Yevczich. Nestled into the foothills of the mountains that dominated the eastern skyline of the city were a handful of new, glass-and-steel office buildings. They weren't exactly what I would call skyscrapers, but they were easily the tallest and most modern buildings in the valley.
