I arrived for the interview. Nervous, anxious, queasy, but managing well not to show it. Apart from being sick on the chair next to me. I’d got hold of a suit last minute. It was a bit small, but other than that it was fine. Apart from the jacket; which was bright pink, and clashed with the trousers. The fluorescent yellow trousers. But apart from that, it was fine.
“What’s your name”, I said, imagining how the conversation might start. “What’s your name?”, the lady said, starting the conversation. I smiled to myself, enjoying the easiness of the question being asked. “Wally. Wally Johnson”. “Hmm” she says. “I can’t see you on the list. Have you made an appointment?” “Yes”, I said. “I rang up yesterday, and spoke to a ginger lady, at least she sounded ginger. She told me to come in Wednesday at 3 o’clock”. Today’s Tuesdays said the lady. “Oh”, I said. “Bollocks”.
No comments:
Post a Comment