I struggle my way through to find the venue of my interview and, eventually, get myself in a state no fresher than the vegetables lying around in the market past noon. As I reach, I literally stagger at the entrance of the building and clumsily waddle my way to the reception. I was thirsty and sweaty but also delighted to be on time and at the right place, for a change. I needed refreshment before I could get myself at the center of attention, and be judged.
Therefore, I decide to make use of the facilities of my “would-be” office; I rise, I walk towards the washroom with an air of vanquishment and ostentation. I can see, from the corner of my eyes, my fellow, “would-be” colleagues watching me reach for the door with an energy of rare kind, and there he is—standing there in the most helplessly natural yet unacceptable form of “release”. I was in the wrong place. Biologically, this was not the place for me; I was in the washroom for the “gentlemen”.
So, what follows my life experience is my interview.
Creative Head (horrified): Amy?
Myself: …ERR! Hi. Yes, that is I.
Creative Head (with a pause, apologetically): So, it seems we can (or maybe cannot) proceed from where we left.
Myself (to myself): Ouch! I think, I just rushed into “breaking the ice”.
The “he” was the “Creative Head”.
This entry was posted in Art and Forms, Gambling Metaphors and tagged amy sandra, anecdotes, Art and forms, Embarrasment, Formally Yours, Formally yours embarrassment, Human Behaviour and Interaction, Not Amateurs but Enthusiasts, writing.