I was trying to get into the building, and no one was coming down to let me in. It was like 5 minutes before my interview. I was so close to being late. I finally called to get inside, and the interview started rolling. Two minutes after we sit down my phone goes off, and my ringer was George Takei saying “ooohhhh myyyyyy.” I grabbed my pocket and turned it off. Luckily, my interviewer said, as he was laughing in his thick NY accent, “That’s exactly what you don’t want happening in an interview!” So, I made a joke of it and said “Sure wish I had a Kit Kat.”
I got to the firm, checked in with the secretary, and sat down on the smooth leather chairs with the fancy modern glass table and its fancy glass vases. I already started freaking out wondering if I should say “vAses” or “vahses” … “vAses vahses vAses vahses…” I looked down briefly to check to make sure I hadn’t dropped any food on myself when I saw that my skirt was unraveling at the seams. I froze like a popsicle. Eventually, I stood up and waddled over to the head secretary. I said, “could you please lend me a stapler?” She kindly obliged. I then proceeded to try to staple my skirt back together. It didn’t work. I was clearly not meant for this job. I returned to the head secretary and said, “do you happen to have any tape?” At this point, she gave me the eye. The eye like “what kind of arts and crafts project are you doing, freak?” I thanked her and proceeded to use all of the tape to get my skirt to stay in place. During my third round, I was focusing as much as I could on the attorney’s questions, but I felt something tickle my calf. I looked down to see tape dangling off my skirt and a few pieces stuck to my leg. Ever since that day, anytime I walk past Banana Republic, I stare it down. I stare it down good.