A Man of Experience

Sometimes the Lesson is Lost

I sort of knew the day wasn’t going to go well from the moment I got up.  Wicked hangover!  I’d stayed far too long and had far too much fun at the pub last night.  Also, far too many drinks for mid-week.

Traffic on my way to the interview was wicked.  Some cow wouldn’t let me merge on the M25 and I flipped her the bird and she gave me a look so I rolled down my window and yelled, “fuck off, you cow,” which didn’t improve her driving manners much.

After I parked my car, I rushed into Costa Coffee on the main level and pushed into line in front of a ditz who wasn’t really paying attention to the queue.  She cursed the back of my head but I was in a hurry and I needed the caffeine to get through this interview.

Jobs like this don’t come up often and the position was perfectly suited to a man of my education and talents.  I’m sure, having seen my curriculum vitae, the interview was just a formality.  They’d be bloody well lucky to have me.

But I was prepared to go through the motions.  I researched the firm, prepared a portfolio, and dressed smart.  It was pretty much in the bag, but I wish I hadn’t drunk so much last night.

Things started to go pear-shaped the moment I stepped out of the elevator into the reception area.  The clerk behind the desk was the cow I’d given the bird to on the motorway.  Oh well, once I’m hired I’ll put on the charm, and she’ll forget that little indiscretion.

In the meeting room, the first of the two interviewers arrived.  Whoops, the ditzy broad from the coffee shop downstairs.  She looked pointedly at my take-out cup before giving me a limp handshake and plonking her Costa cup on the table.

The second interviewer looked familiar but it took me a few minutes to remember I’d seen him at the pub last night.  Unfortunately it was right after he caught me shagging his girlfriend in a cubicle in the loo.

I pretty much knew then I didn’t have the job.  Although, really, if he is so hot why was she so easily led astray?  I’d think about that, joe, if I were you.

The big boss made an appearance at the end of the interview.  It was already a lost cause, so I didn’t even try to suppress a smirk when I recognized my little drunk-sex cubicle friend from The Drunken Duck.  I saw her face flush crimson before she pivoted on one stiletto heel and stalked out of the room without uttering a word.

So, yeah, I’d say that was the worst interview ever.  I didn’t really want the job anyway.  There are plenty of positions like that for a man of my experience.