You're not a very sociable pony. Or interesting.
In fact, you literally had so little interests, hobbies, and dreams that others ran from you. If you didn't kill them from boredom first. The only possible interesting thing about you is that you read and write. You could call it a passion, but seeing as you're still a blank-flanked loser and have been since fillyhood, you figure that writing isn't your secret special talent. Though you have been to many places in Equestria in your short lifetime, your cutie mark still has yet to reveal its self.
You do not feel deterred by this, however. Ponies these days think they need to find a career that specializes in their talent in order to be happy, as if a mark on your crop defines your entire identity. Well, what if you had a special talent you couldn't earn money doing? Or what if you grew up without a cutie mark, like yourself? What do you do then?
Find a job that will pay. It doesn’t matter as long as you're being paid. Seems a little...bland compared to the romanticized idea of having a purpose.
You liked to say you had a 'free spirit' when ponies asked about your flank. Maybe it's your deep spiritual Cajun Swamp roots that lead you to be so okay with having no talents. You were a very...open-minded pony, to say the least.
The concept of a cutie mark is very disorienting. Science and research have failed multiple times throughout history in attempt understand how one works- or what it even is. Some say it was a gift bestowed upon the ponies by the all knowing and all powerful Queen Faust eons ago, before the births of Princess Celestia and Luna.
Another idea is that ponies once were dull and ugly, large beasts with wiry black manes and muddy colored fur that did nothing but graze through wild fields. The world was supposedly very different and depressing back then before a terrible nucleic war occurred. The radiation either killed you or terribly deformed you. The intelligent species of that timeline was wiped out, leaving the animals to breed more and more deformed animals until...poof! Equestria was developed!
Equestria could possibly be the product of nuclear radiowaves.
You pondered the idea of the planet being put into a microwave, and Equestria being what came out after it was done and you smiled to yourself. You also tried to imagine what kind of creature thrived before us. Before you knew it, you were in front of the building you needed to be at. It was a large one, the buildings here were very industrial for such a...secluded place. For miles all you could see was dirt field and rocks. In the distance, what looked like a windmill and farmhouse was surrounded by fencing.
If you land the job, you would be seeing rocks every day for a long time.
“Miss... ______, was it?”
You sat on a chair opposite of her, wriggling in it uncomfortably. The mare that sat behind the desk looked up from behind the resume she held in her grasp, tilting her glasses down slightly to look at you.
You looked away from your gaze instantly, instead focusing your attention on the rather basic room. There was a desk that Ms. Quartz sat at, some paperwork and a cup with pencils inside it, and in the corner was a filing cabinet. There was a framed plaque behind the mare on the wall, looking like some kind of degree for something.
“To put it simply, you have virtually no skills, especially in the workforce, you are clumsy, rash and you've probably never held a stable job in your life.”
You look down, feeling your ears and cheeks burning.
“That's really- that’s a really, um, blunt way to put it,” you say quietly. You feel like a complete clown. Why did you even try for this job?
Oh yeah, because it requires absolutely no skill so it was right up your alley. But you should've known even a place like this doesn't hire bums like you.
The older mare put down your resume and softly set her elbows upon the desk, her hooves touching together and hiding her muzzle as she looked at you in almost stoic silence, her one eyebrow raised.
You closed your eyes, waiting for the absolute worst. You couldn't bear to see that painfully-emotionless face.
“Yes. Very well. Be here tomorrow at 7 am so we may discuss your duties and provide you with the necessary equipment,” she said in one breath as she then pulled out a file to study, as if the meeting was over just then.
“I know, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have wasted your time, I- ….wait, what did you say?” you ask, sitting up straighter in your chair, eyebrow raising. Did she just say what you think she said?
The mare looked up tentatively, setting her files down and standing, trotting past you and toward the filing cabinet. She rummaged through it before pulling something out. “You're hired. Wear this when you come in tomorrow,” she said as she tossed a folded clothing item into your lap.
You were astounded. All you could do was stare at her, slack-jawed.
“We are a sentient company, Ms.______. We feel it is necessary to give low-income ponies a chance. Needless to say, we don't just hire anypony. We give everypony a chance and then if they can live up to our standards, they're hired as a permanent rock farmer. So, my statement stands firm, Miss ______; come in tomorrow at 7 am. Sharp,” she reminded as she opened the door for you to step through.
“Thank you, Mrs. Quartz. You won't regret this,” you stutter as you firmly shake her hoof and turn, beginning to trot away, a bit more of a bounce in you than when you had first come. You were in complete shock, really; she actually hired you!
I mean, hey, she hired you because you can't get a job and you're worthless, but who cares? You'll be getting paid real bits. The thought of it almost made you rigid with excitement!
When you assumed you were far away enough for the mare to have either gone inside or be unable to see you, you let out a triumphant whoop as you take an excited leap into the air. You were close to singing a short song about overcoming your fears and all that until you stopped, mid-jump, to see the mare under a hundred miles away still watching you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Was she smirking or scowling? She was too far to tell. You can feel your cheeks burn at that, and you slowly back away. When you get to a corner you quickly run behind it, leaving a small cloud of dust in your wake.
Cloudy Quartz sighed softly and turned back to the building, where a large sign stated 'Molasses Pie Industries' in bold letters above.