Having perhaps the better claim

I should never have come here, Jay realizes the moment he sits down on the stackable conference chair. Once he is seated, he feels both armrests pressing against the curves of his stomach. Thin drops of sweat slide down his massive upper arms. He looks at his new shoes. Splashes of dark mud disfigure the shiny leather.

On the table next to him are magazines. He looks at the titles. ‘The Modern baker’. ‘Cookie World’. Nothing else indicates that he has a job interview at the most popular bakery in town. The walls of the narrow room are painted cream white. Next to the grey-brown cafeteria table, there are only five chairs in the room.

Where other children, when they were at primary school, mainly wanted to be astronauts, firefighters, models, doctors or explorers, he always said he was going to be a baker. Bread, pastries, donuts, croissants or cookies. As a child, he loved all products that had to be baked in an oven. He relished the taste, the smell, the texture.

Chubby Jay. That was already his nickname in kindergarten. And it didn’t stop when he went to elementary school. And even today, no one calls him Jay. It’s always Chubby Jay. Or Dumpy Jay. Even his family and friends don’t know any better than this is his real name.

At age ten, he got a Little Oven for his birthday. After years of incessant nagging and asking, his parents had given in. Even though they thought he was much too young. But from the day he was allowed to bake for himself, his life changed. He was still bullied for being so heavy-set. But he cared less then since he was able to create his own sweet and colourful universe. The world of flour, yeast, eggs, salt, sugar, chocolate, jam, honey and spices.

Those around him thought his infatuation would go away on its own. Later in life, he would come to the healthy realization that there are more attractive studies to choose from than bread – or pastry chef. What about law, economics, engineering or finance?

The boy across from him doesn’t have the problem of having the armrests pressing against his gut. Everything about him is sleek, fashionable, controlled. Stylish shirt jacket, casual shirt, navy blue trousers, olive leather trainers. On his wrist hangs a classic watch with vintage styling, in his neck is a tattoo of an animal. A leopard?

The door opens. A candidate is ready and says goodbye. He is also impeccably dressed and looks as if he hangs around in a gym at least half of his time. Jay wipes the sweat from his cheeks and his forehead. Together with his mother, he picked out new clothes and shoes yesterday. But it all doesn't fit. Everything is too tight, too forced, too closed off. As if he has been put in a plastic bag.

He currently works at an insignificant bakery in an unimportant village. When he saw the advertisement for the New City Baker, he knew immediately. This is what I want. This is my dream. In this modern bakery, the best breads are baked and the most beautiful pastries are made. With organic flour and only natural ingredients,

The clientele of the New City Baker mainly consists of young, rich, talented local residents. They are lawyers, financial advisors or consultants. They drive Tesla’s, live in luxury apartments, go on vacation to Dubai, Japan, Barbados, Thailand or Bali.

Jay drives a Daihatsu Terios from 1997 and lives with his parents. They never go on vacation. His father is extremely short of breath.

The boy across from him has been led inside. Why does Jay think he has a chance? Is it hubris? Overconfidence? Isn't it time for him to acknowledge it? He will always be insignificant, unimportant. Chumpy Jay. That's who he is. That's who he will always be.

Then he hears a voice. His name is being called. He cringes. But is shuffling into the direction of the room where the interview is taken place. His head feels like it's been in a hot air oven for an hour.

"Come on in," says the owner. Only to look up in surprise. "Ha! Finally, someone who looks like a real baker!" shouts the artisan. Jay shakes the man's hand. He is pleasantly surprised himself. It's not often that he meets someone twice as bulky as he is.