we make buttons

where do you see yourself
in five
years, the interviewer asks,
leaning back
in his leather chair.
twisting a pencil
in his soft hands, waiting
with raised eyebrows
for my answer.
his shoes are up on
the desk, pointing towards
where I sit in a low chair.
what I want to say is
anywhere but here, or
away from this building
would be a good place
to be. but I don't say
that. I need this job.
I've got a wife and kids.
I've got credit cards maxed
out. tuition to pay.
dental bills. the list goes
on. so, I bite my tongue
and tell the man.
i'd like to still be working here
in five years.
perhaps working my way up
to be a manager of some
sort. doing what I can to
make this company grow.
I see myself in a tiny
cubicle working 60 hours
a week, dedicated to making
these amazing rivets that you produce.
buttons, he says, squinting.
what?
we make buttons.
oh right, I mean buttons.