Sweating

July 24th 2002

I went for a job interview yesterday, in my attempt to get a job before
my notice period runs out. I was all suited and booted in my wedding
suit, left with plenty of time to get to Pimlico, thought the tube
wouldn't be too busy at 10.30am, I was wrong.

It was so hot undergorund, bodies were crushed together and we were all
sharing body heat. As a result I was sweating enormously when I exited
the tube. I had about 15 minutes to wander around, which I did, sucking
on a ribena and then lighting up. As I wandered the streets near the
interview, I saw another guy looking very hot and sweaty, nervously
puffing on a fag, thought he might be up for the same ordeal as
me.

The interview went well, two charming ladies in their 50s. I wasn't
sure if I would fit into their little World, but I didn't give them
that impression. Afterwards I walked back to the tube and decided to go
home and change as I still felt sopping wet. When I got a close look at
my face, I discovered newsprint had smudged much of my forehead, I
hoped that it was from the journey from the interview as they hadn't
looked at me as if I had dirty great marks on my forehead.

I returned to work and had the satisfaction of making my boss feel
really guilty for not giving me the job. She breezed towards my new
desk and asked me how I was doing. In my best depressed monotone I
answered, just serving out my time here, she forced a smile but her
breeziness disappeared sharpish. She mentioned something about talking
again soon and was gone before I could make another guilt inducing
comment.