Sunday, June 24, 2012

Wisconsin 101:The interview save

I had a job interview this week. As I'm sure everyone does, I stopped drinking about two hours before I left the house because I didn't want to worry about having to use the ladies' in the middle of things.

Drinking water, I mean. The booze should be saved for after the interview. Although maybe a little shot would help me relax. I don't know. I'm not much of a drinker. It would have to be a very little shot because just splitting a chocolate martini with SH when we go out for his birthday is enough to make me woozy. And unless a hiring manager is specifically seeking woozy, it's not a quality I want to exhibit when I am trying to convince someone to give me money to spend time at their place of work.

So I'd had no water for two hours when I arrived, except for a gulp from the water bottle I keep in the car - nothing like hot, stale water to refresh you - and I realized that I might have dehydration-related bad breath, the prospect of which terrifies me even under ordinary circumstances but rendered me panic-stricken as I contemplated the interviewers backing away from me in horror.

There was a hotel next to the office where I was to interview. I ran in to their gift shop to check for breath mints.


Had I wanted to clip my nails or shave or eat breakfast, I would have been well supplied, but there were no breath mints to be found.

I looked around. I didn't see anyplace that looked like they might have breath mints in their inventory. I went into the office building and found the security guard.

"Is there anyplace around here that would sell breath mints?" I asked him. "I have a job interview."

He answered. "There's a Walgreen's across the street."

"What time is it?" I asked him.

He looked at his watch. "Two forty eight," he said.

"Rats! The interview's at three. I don't have time." My shoulders slumped. How could I not have thought of this before? I should have had a supply of emergency breath mints in my purse, next to the emergency aspirin, emergency tums, and emergency granola bars.

He held up a finger. "Wait!" he said as he ran around the corner.

I followed him. He went into the office behind the security desk, rummaged around, and emerged, holding something small and white in his fingers. "Here," he said as he handed it to me. "Have a lifesaver."

Then he put his arm around my shoulders and we walked out of the stadium. The End.


webb said...

Great story, CF. One finds the kindness of strangers especially wonderful. Hope that was a good omen for the interview.

Jen on the Edge said...

The kindness of strangers. Love it.

Class factotum said...

He was lovely. I just called his supervisor to tell him how nice he was.