Jesse+&+Alan

UNSUCCESSFUL JOB INTERVIEW “Vodka and dry gin,” Brooke Boleyn said with an exaggerated smile, before sliding wildly onto the wooden bar stool beside Madison. Brooke was wearing a black and silver cardigan by Alexander McQueen with the button-up blouse she’d worn at her high school graduation, two years before.

“Looks like you’ve had enough to drink,” Madison hissed, turning her fox-like face away from Brooke’s toxic booze breath. The two of them were in the dining room of Madison’s campus suite. The room was extremely full in height and the glimmering light of the gracefully hung chandeliers made Brooke’s mossy green eyes appear a tad bit greener. Brooke threw her short and narrow arms over the hazardous, old western-styled bar and demanded another drink.

“I’ve had an extremely stressful day,” Brooke mumbled, spaciously, twirling the trimmed ends of her wheat blond mane. Brooke had gotten all dolled up for a job interview as a secretary for the prestigious Rudolf Plaza, the hotel across the street from her school. “My head is so totally spinning right now,” Brooke chuckled after cutting her almond-shaped eyes at Madison. Madison wanted so badly to stop her friend from making a complete fool of herself, but she decided to sit back and watch instead.

Madison’s milky, white skin glowed with the satisfaction of seeing Brooke Boleyn off her high horse for once. She was always so quick to judge everyone else, but this time she was the one being judged. Once she stepped foot in the rotating, glass doors of the Rudolf Plaza, it was like…instant rejection, epic failure. Her hair was a bit too perfect, and her raspberry blue necktie was tied a little too tightly. According to the people at Rudolf, everything about her was so painfully fictitious ; even her vocabulary was theatrical.

Madison’s flaming red bob fell over her eyes, as she tilted her head to the side, before gazing over toward the main door. Someone was knocking. A song by Lady Gaga roared through the surrounding stereo speakers and Brooke was suggestively shaking her hips from side to side.

“I got it!” Brooke shouted, darting toward the locked door with a flute glass in one of her hands. She slung open the door, only to find a representative of the Rudolf Plaza standing on the opposite side.

“Mr. Gillette!” Brooke gasped at the sight of the familiar person. Her long, slender face crashed into the marble tile below her; only her glass would crash first.

I had been unemployed for some time. I had applied at several jobs not even as good as my last. Then one day I got a call, and it wasn't just any call for some clerk position or just something to merely get by with. This job was straight into upper management. My interview was scheduled in two days.

Why they picked me for this, I don't know. How they even thought me remotely qualified from past experience, also a mystery. It was almost as if something told them to call me. I had not uet figured this out, and then i hit me. How was I to convince them to hre me? All I really did in preparation however is gather a resume.

Then the day came, and what turned out was the best interviews I've ever had. It was one of those conversations that just flows perfectly. With little to no effort, I was able to respond qickly and witfully. With just a nice lunch and a few laughs, I had the job.

I almost feel bad for the other much more qualified candidates. Don't get me wrong, I do the best job I can, but rarely in the job market does it matter how well you work so much as where you come from, as far as getting interviews goes.