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Well, I'm sure you're dying to know. About the job interview.

Short story: The ditsiest moment of my life.

Long story:

7:15. Woke up. Had plenty of time to shower, shave, piss, iron clothes, get dressed, and put goo in hair. Left Stockton around 8am. That's good right? Plenty of time, I thought. It usually took me 45 minutes to get to downtown Sacramento. Yeah, an hour sounds plausible. Nope, it took me more than an hour to get to my destination! I was getting nervous while driving through Laguna Blvd when all of a sudden the traffic slowed. Heck at one point, I was going 3 miles/hour!

Knowing I was going to be fucking late, I called the office where the interview was being held. I told them my name and was put immediately on hold. A few seconds later, the lady asked what was the purpose of my call. Again, I was put on hold. She asked for the interviewer's name, which was never given to me. This resulted with me being transferred several times. Nobody seemed to know. I'm thinking, "Great!" When the lady (I think she moonlights as Mrs. Obvious) pronounced she couldn't help me but suggests to get there fast. Sure! Let me get off the phone with you so I can open up my window and scream like a banshee with the hopes of the drivers ahead, mistaking me for an ambulance, would graciously part to each side of the freeway and let me through. Yeah, I'm fucked!

9:07. Good, I'm not too late. Not so fast. In my state of haste, it dawned on me that I had parked 5 blocks away! I thought about going back to my car, which was parked 7 floors up. Instead, I hauled ass! I was like a mad man. Dodging other people and jumping over obstacles, all the while expressing my apologies. I think I even said sorry to an empty park bench. After giving one driver one lone finger, the bitch almost clipped me, I stood where 'X' marked the spot. Showed my ID, rode the elevator. Checked my reflection. Not as crisp but not disheveled. Door opens. Sure enough, I got off the wrong floor.

9:37. Eventually found the right room and somehow had my interview re-scheduled 2 hours later.

11:17. The girl in the front desk asks if I was back for the interview (Mrs. Obvious turned out to be Ms. Duh). Fearing I might say something 'like, so rude', I nodded with agreement. Gave me three papers, each describing three different job duties. Instructed me to sit on a chair, read the job descriptions, wait to be called, and left by wishing me good luck. Hearing her say those words just made me feel guilty for the sarcastic words I meant to say to her and glad that I didn't.

11:27. I heard voices eminating from a door a few feet to my right. They were laughing. The door opens and a cute petite girl wearing a black angora sweater over a white collared shirt and khaki pants exits. Followed by a guy in a blue buttoned-up shirt, necktie, and dark pleated pants. The guy gave the girl directions on how to get to the elevator. Girl started walking, guy follows with his eyes firmly planted to her ass. Goes back inside. My heart sank and began thinking of a way to let them forget about her.

11:32. I got called in the room. It so happens that there were three people doing the interview. You could imagine my nervousness. Crap. Each one introduced themselves and their respective departments. Sounded very interesting. I could have understood more if it weren't the fact that the guy to my left had such beautiful blue green eyes. Yeah, the one that was staring the last interviewee's ass. I couldn't concentrate. Everytime he spoke, I looked directly into his eyes. And each time, I felt a little flushed. I could imagine the sight of me turning red. The interview was going well, I thought. Until the guy asked what was one of my weakness in my current employment. It went downhill from there.

Weakness. For crying out loud! I knew that one was coming. I even had a prepared statement for such a question. Battle ready, I would have said, "I am my own worse critic. I am never satisfied with my work no matter how everyone else perceives it as a job well done. I would always think up of better ways of doing things." But I never said any of those words. Immediately, I blanked out. I couldn't think of anything. Why now? Stop thinking about those damn eyes!

In my panic, all I said was, "Ummm, I don't know. Let me think..." DANGER WILL ROBINSON! "Ummm... Sta-ta-sta-Stapling?" HOUSTON WE HAVE A PROBLEM! "I really don't know!" The last came out almost like a whine.

Yeah, I'm screwed. I couldn't even begin to imagine what were going through their heads when they heard me say STAPLING!. I am such an idiot! It was such a traumatic experience that I couldn't remember what was said nor asked after. Except when returning to my car did I finally let out a scream.

Ugh!