Interviews
He was young. Of the dozen or so young men seated around the foyer, this one looked particularly young. His suit was a little too neat, his face too fresh, his demeanour too reserved. There was nothing about him that might serve as a window to his real personality. Little notice was taken of him.
His name was called and he was conducted through an outer office. He eyed the catalogue dresses and the fleet-fingered keyboard operators inside them. He had never seen so many pretty girls in one place. He could almost feel his palm against the skin of the blonde in blue. And what about the dark beauty at the filing cabinet!
He blushed. What if his thoughts were somehow discernible? He must compose himself. He looked along the tiled corridor in front of him and squared his shoulders self-consciously. The keyboard operators did not notice him.
When he reached the manager’s office, he politely shook hands with each member of the interview panel. He answered their questions clearly and confidently, emphasising the knowledge that his qualifications implied. He followed the advice that his teachers had given him with appropriate discretion.
When he left, his file was placed in a plastic filing tray with several other files. No further notice was taken of it.
He decided that luck was the key. He had lost count of the number of times he had taken answers, certificates and enthusiasm into interviews only to learn that he had failed. He had been just unlucky.
He felt better about the interview at hand. He had been at school with the junior partner and felt relaxed. He decided that a friendly yet respectful approach would be best.
The interview went well. He was open, forthright and avoided practised answers, cardboard expressions. The partners seemed impressed and he went away with the feeling that he just might have been lucky.
The partners discussed his interview and both agreed that it had been a good one. The senior partner was concerned about what he felt was an easy-going familiarity. The position required an element of tact. The junior partner quickly pointed out that a customer--friendly attitude was commendable and tact usually came with experience.
It was a difficult decision. In the end, they decided that it might be less risky if they appointed a more mature person to this important post. The young man had shown a number of excellent qualities but, there it was, he had merely been unlucky.
There was a lot of opposition. The lady on the telephone had told him that over a hundred people had applied so he was heartened to learn that he was one of only twelve applicants to be granted an interview. About ninety per cent of the opposition had been eliminated. He only had eleven others to beat.
He went in with a more aggressive attitude than he had used previously. The early, routine questions he met with immediate, direct answers. When the questions became deeper, he answered with fire and passion. Then he was bombarded with challenging, razor-sharp questions to test his reaction to this competitive trade.
Now he found his element. An accomplished actor could not have bettered his choice of words and the power of their delivery. He was completely in charge when the interview came to an end.
The Manager paced his office. He felt washed out. The applicant had taken control of the interview and that was unique. That sort of domination would stand him in good stead in such a volatile market. He only held back from confirming the appointment because he needed to be convinced that the man could control his aggression.
The applicant was ecstatic when told that he and the dark-haired man he had been talking to were the only two required the following day for final interviews. He had known all along that he would be able to eliminate the others from the contest. What a lovely word: eliminate! What a lovely phrase: victory by elimination. He must eliminate just one more person.
When elimination became fact, he made the most important decision he had ever made. In the interview to come, he would remain silent.
Throughout his life, at school, at college, at job interviews, it had been questions, questions, more questions. Now he would keep his mouth shut. Opinions depended on his answers so if he said nought, they would not be able to form opinions.
The interview lasted a long time. Questions were fired at him like bullets though they were not as hard as the bullets he had used. At times, words strained to burst from his lips but he managed to keep them firmly shut. Eventually, the questions came to an end and he was put in a room with frosted windows.
Later, the same people returned and asked him the same questions. This time, they were quieter and watched him closely for any reaction. They suggested answers to the questions, saying that he needed only to say yes or no. He said nothing. They took him to a smaller room with barred windows.
He lost count of the number of times he ate or slept before he saw them again. They asked no questions. They handed him his jacket and led him out to a white van. After a long drive, they all got out and he was taken into a large, old building. They led him to a room within the building. They sat him down in front of three old men in white coats and whispered to them while he stared at the ceiling. The room had high windows.
When the old men started to ask him questions, he found it difficult not to reply. Their manner was gentle and the questions were easy. He could only resist the temptation to speak by allowing his mind to wander. First he imagined that the old men’s coats creaked when they moved, as did their voices when they spoke. Then he saw them as a row of washerwomen at the suds. Finally, he thought of a row of milk bottles on a doorstep. That made him laugh.
He had released himself from their silly questions. The comfort of laughter had set him free so he kept on laughing. He laughed at their shaking, sad faces; he laughed at their solicitude as they led him away; he laughed at everyone and everything they passed. He only stopped laughing when he heard a door close behind him.
The soft white room he now occupied was tiny and he was alone. The table, chair, bed and cabinet were all white and fixed to the floor. He sat on the bed and considered his new surroundings, revelling in the comfort of being free from questions. He was in a world of his own, a world inhabited just by him.
Suddenly, he felt uneasy as he realised how alone he really was. There was nobody to whom he could boast of his achievements. The uneasiness turned to panic. Just when he thought he was safe from the world, he needed to talk. Anybody would do. He desired to talk more than ever before.
But this room had no windows at all.
Page(s) 16-18
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