LatinosUSA

Mary was nearly perfect. Young, intelligent, and sexy and pretty, casual observers would think that she had the world by the tail. She had but one imperfection: she had six fingers on each hand. It was something she learned to live with. But she found it increasingly problematic in her pursuit of employment.

Mary sat for an interview at the local bakery.

“Do you have any relevant experience?” asked Mrs. Stone, who sat behind a metal desk, across from Mary.

“Oh, yes,” replied Mary. “I love to bake!”

Mrs. Stone nodded, clearly unconvinced. Her gaze returned repeatedly to Mary’s hands, held folded in her lap.

The interview proceeded apace for several minutes.

“A certain amount of physical dexterity is required, Mary,” said Mrs. Stone, feeling a surge of pity for the job prospect. “Also, you’d have a great deal of contact with the public, selling our goods. I’m afraid that you simply would not be able to adjust to the routine. You understand, dear?”

Mary stared forlornly at her six-fingered hands, nodded sadly, and rose to her feet. She thanked the bakery supervisor for her time and walked quietly from the shop.

After Mary left, one of the bakery workers entered the room. “Alberta,” the newcomer said, “did you hire her?”

Alberta shook her head no. “No, poor dear,” she murmured.

“But why? She was a pretty young thing.”

“Did you see her hands?” asked Stone.

“Yes,” admitted the other woman. “You might’ve made an exception,” she suggested.

Stone shook her head again. “No, if we made an exception for one, then every disfigured person in the city would expect the same consideration.”

“Did she tell you how it happened?”

“Uh-huh, it was the result of a traffic accident, multiple amputations.” She brought her normal, 7-finger hand thoughtfully to her chin. “It must be terrible to be disfigured,” she said.