Shake Off The Dust From Your Shoes

I pulled the pin stripes from the closet the other day and hauled my suit down to the cleaners in preparation for a big interview.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” I asked. “Sure, it’s $20,000 more are year but you will not get the job because nothing ever works out the way you think it will.”

This time it felt different. I did not scan the help wanted section of ‘The New York Times’. A woman who I currently work with read a few of my words hammered out in the form of “Minutes from the April 2006 Divisional Board Meeting” and asked me if I had “any friends” as efficient as myself– “The Job pays $60,000 a year,” she informed.

I shot off an e-mail before the woman who understands the writing on my walls could double click on her in-box icon.

Things always happen for a reason I said to myself glowing in the realization that a woman who studied literature at Yale called upon my pen.

The tabloid news hit the workplace at my current job. They were all in my office yesterday rubbing my back telling me how lonely it will be there without me.

I came home and tried to read the reviews of my writings in the craigslist writers forum but couldn’t log on.

I tried all evening to get that little “connected to” message. Eventually I discovered that my cat somehow knocked out the plug of my high speed connection.

“I wonder how long my phone has been left off- line,” I said while reconnecting the clear plastic communications penis into the vagina like hole sticking out of the wall.

I showed up at the interview looking fierce. The train ride there was better than a stroll down memory lane. I haven’t had so many eyes undress me since the days of Go-Go dancing at the club Splash here in town. I blushed nonstop on that train ride. Both girls and guys were checking me out. “Well damn, I’ll dress up more often! Get off me- I’m on my way to an interview,” I said.


“I tried to get in touch with you last evening. The position has been filled, but since you are here, I’d like to interview you anyway. We have similar positions opening up all the time here.” I was informed.

It turned out to be the most challenging interview I ever had. They asked me to edit a sample letter. The woman seemed very impressed with the little details I caught like “Chicago, NY 66235".

On the way out of the revolving doors of the huge skyscraper I looked up the street and noticed the Fox News studios.

I almost walked over to the window to flipped the media the bird.

I flew home and wrote instead.