I felt good. I felt really good. My job interviewing skills were getting better and better and I think I got this job. This is a dream--PR and secretarial work. No one likes organizing calendars and working with social media more than this girl.
So I went back to my apartment, happy as clam, or mussel, or some short of shellfish (how did this idiom come about?). I shared my excitement with my friends and went on for a couple minutes about the company. I turned around and started heading back to my apartment to change.
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| The original shorteralls (overall shorts). |
"Eden," Nicolle hesitated. "Has your zipper been down this whole time?"
I thought for a second. Did this skirt have a zipper? No...right?
Nicolle walked up behind me and ziiiiiiiip.
Oh crap. My mind started racing. Where have I been? Who had seen me? How did I miss the zipper? The room was rising in temperature. I remember rushing home from my final to grab Camille's car keys and changing very quickly. I remember fastening the clasps...but I couldn't recall zipping the zipper. My interviewers might have seen. "Eden?" I became unresponsive to my friends. I'm clawing at the recesses of my mind to find a place to hide. I kept thinking. The man was at least a billion feet tall, so maybe not him. The woman seemed exhausted from interviewing all day long. She was seated. She could have witnessed my plaid blue underwear (thank goodness it was appropriate). The man in the back booth of Kneaders. For sure, he saw. All those cars that passed me when I went to Illia's to say goodbye. All five of those cars, abundant with people.
And now my friends. (Oh, how I will miss them.)
As my flashbacks began to dim, I became more conscious of my physical surroundings. Laughter filled my ears, the room was hot and it was hard to breathe. I was so confident in my interview, and one simple mistake, one sign of weakness tore me down.
Nicolle walked up behind me and ziiiiiiiip.
Oh crap. My mind started racing. Where have I been? Who had seen me? How did I miss the zipper? The room was rising in temperature. I remember rushing home from my final to grab Camille's car keys and changing very quickly. I remember fastening the clasps...but I couldn't recall zipping the zipper. My interviewers might have seen. "Eden?" I became unresponsive to my friends. I'm clawing at the recesses of my mind to find a place to hide. I kept thinking. The man was at least a billion feet tall, so maybe not him. The woman seemed exhausted from interviewing all day long. She was seated. She could have witnessed my plaid blue underwear (thank goodness it was appropriate). The man in the back booth of Kneaders. For sure, he saw. All those cars that passed me when I went to Illia's to say goodbye. All five of those cars, abundant with people.
And now my friends. (Oh, how I will miss them.)
As my flashbacks began to dim, I became more conscious of my physical surroundings. Laughter filled my ears, the room was hot and it was hard to breathe. I was so confident in my interview, and one simple mistake, one sign of weakness tore me down.
But all is well. I got the job! And I feel pretty good about everything right now, and especially about the fact that the world is forgiving of little slip-ups like that. My future is looking bright.
Dear friends, lessons learned. Don't judge a book by it's unzipped cover. And give yourself enough time to make sure you're dressed well and zipped for an interview.
Here's a song for you today. I originally had the one with Anna Kendrick. Then Nicolle showed this to me (released three years ago) and I have to say...I'm slightly disappointed, Anna, I'm a little disappointed. Negative ten points for lack of originality. But I still love you.
Have a best day on the perfect date, my friends.
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