You know things aren’t boding well for your job interview when you realise an hour before the appointment time that you’ve forgotten your bra.
…and you’re wearing a white shirt.
…and you’ve got rosy nipples.
But forget my bra today I did. So I went into emergency mode and went shopping for a bra 45 minutes before my job interview.
It was the quickest damn purchase I’ve ever made in my life. Five minutes max. I charged into the shop; grabbed the first sales assistant I could find; told her I needed a 36C in white, no ribbons, no bling, no lace, no fucking hearts, dogs or squirrels; took two into the change room; made a snap decision; handed over the money and then I swallowed my pride:
“Can you cut off all the tags and can I put it on in your change room?” I asked.
And when the sales assistant raised her eyebrows at me, I scraped the bottom of my pride barrel for the last few vestiges and said:
“It’s kind of an emergency no-bra-but-need-bra situation.”
I wish I made this stuff up.
But anyway, I got my bra and feeling better knowing that my nipples were safe from the world, I went for my interview.
So I entered the room, took a seat across from the general manager and the marketing director and the first words out of my mouth were,
‘Oh, I see you’ve got my resume.’
NO-SHIT-SHERLOCK!!! You’re in a fucking job interview! Of course, they’ve got your resume. You sent the fucking thing to them!!!
And it was at that point I thought that all the bras in the world wouldn’t have helped me.
It would have been a great job to get, but I didn’t feel the love. I was uberly nervous and couldn’t stop doing a high-pitched girlie laugh for the whole hour. I also lost half my body weight in sweat and totally, totally failed at answering the questions. I floated up out of my body half-way through and looked down at myself thinking, ‘You’re talking utter fluff and crap and you seem to have great difficulty with the English language.’
So I have to call the recruiter tomorrow and tell her how I went. I’m strongly considering at the moment simply saying, ‘Fine’ instead of going into detail about missing bras and total.interview.fail.
Or maybe she’ll find this story as amusing as I am in retrospect. But then again, she’s lost about $7,000 by not placing me so perhaps when she calls me next week to tell me I haven’t got the job, I should act all innocent and chime in perfectly with her, ‘I wonder why?’s.
P.S In case you’ve been reading this and wondering why the fuck I wasn’t wearing a bra to begin with, I’ll let you in on a little secret: I never wear a bra. M thinks that means I’m a slut, I think it just means one less item of clothing I need to wash.