<span style="font-weight: bold">April 6, 1912, 7:30AM</span><br/><br/>"Leandro Matthews, Sir," the hopeful young man replied with a fake name. His plan to hop aboard the great Titanic was already clear in his mind -- to apply for a laundryman job that's probably the least laborious and requiring the lowest tier of skill sets. And what better fictitious name than a play on<span style="font-style: italic">Laundromat</span>? He smirked inwardly at himself, wondering if anyone would even notice.<br/><br/>"And what skills and assets would you bring on board<span style="font-style: italic">The Titanic</span>?" Came the second question from the moustached officer, probably in his mid-forties, sitting across the desk inside a quaint office by the docks.<br/><br/>"Sir, for the past ten years, I've been working as a collier for--"<br/><br/>"Wait, what-t," the officer interrupted 'Leandro', leaning forward on his desk and glaring at him with menacing grey eyes beneath an even thicker brush of russet eyebrows. "You mean to tell me, you're one of them bloody coal workers?? Y'know the big pile of dung you lazy hellspawns dump on our company and the shipping business? We canna even send out ships to deliver mail and shtuff due to the coal shortage, and we just now had to haul in the coal cargo from<span style="font-style: italic">The Titanic</span>'s sister ships just to get this voyage sailin', you bloody plebs!"<br/><br/>Leandro gulped slightly, letting the upset officer browbeat him. He focused on his moustache so as not to seem to break face contact. He didn't expect this outburst, but he allowed the man to let off steam. In the end, hopefully he'd be spent on his venting and permit Leandro a word in. After a couple more minutes of outrage, of how the<span style="font-style: italic">White Star Line</span>couldn't recover cancellations due to the strike, of how the steamer's capacity was over 3000 but she'd have to sail out with barely over 2000, and a bunch of other drivel, the officer finally calmed down.<br/><br/>"I... I truly apologize, sir. I am not in agreement with the whole situation at all; I know it has disrupted people's lives and businesses, not to mention mine own. I barely had any work during nearly the past two months and... that's why I am here, to start anew, as it may?" He gulped, blue eyes pleading, quivering. His being quiet rather than defiant throughout the outburst was working to his favour. Perhaps the taskmaster was feeling guilty for taking it out on him, when it was the higherups who were really to blame. And also perhaps, Leandro's appeal to his sense of fairness and compassion was hitting right on target. Giving a fairly innocent party another chance would make anyone feel warm and good.<br/><br/>"So yeah, basically I quit. I saw the general labour board and decided to apply. I think my colliery skills can still come in handy? I mean, I could back up the steam engines work, but like I said, I'm fed up with coal-mining work, so yeah, I noticed you still looking for Crew Accommodations work? What does The Titanic use for clothes irons? Still coal, or are they now electric?"<br/><br/>"Uh," the naval officer sat back against his chair. He wasn't exactly sure. But his priority was to fill up a few vacant positions because a major stocking up of certain supplies were to start today. "Okay, so show me your work papers and I'll send you along. Talk to the Purser Mr. --"<br/><br/>"Pardon me, but I meant to mention something about<span style="font-style: italic">that</span>. You see, the Mining Federation's been keeping my papers hostage. I really don't know when the strike would end, so..." Little did both know that the strike would officially end later that day of April 6, 1912.<a class="postlink" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_coal_strike_of_1912"><span style="vertical-align: super;">1</span></a><br/><br/>"Eh, that's fine, just tell me your vital statistics, etcetera," the officer seemed friendlier now. He probably was thinking a strong-looking,  punctual, seemingly knowledgeable, and not easily intimidated young man like Leandro could be useful for the less glorified work such as cleaning the glory holes (common toilets). It was some sort of hidden satisfaction in giving this younger fellow a second chance: from the dark pits of the coal mines, to the darker pits of humanity's excess.<br/><br/>"Thank you very kindly and much, sir," reaching out to shake the officer's hand gratefully. "I promise I won't let you or the passengers or the ship down."