“But you haven’t seen my resume,” I said, being deliberately obtuse. My resume wasn’t going to impress this guy. Still, desperate times and all that. I unfolded the single sheet andplaced it on his desk. “You should at least read it. Since the temp agency sent me here.”
“Temp agency? I didn’t call a-” he picked up the paper, scanned it, then glanced up at me. “Is this a joke?”
“Uh…I don’t think so?”
“You’re not even a college graduate.”
“Do I need to be? It seems like anyone with a brain can answer a phone.”
He huffed as if I’d said something ridiculous. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven,” I lied confidently.
He raised his eyebrow. “Try again.”
“Twenty-two next month,” I admitted.
“Why did you lie?”
Admitting I was a liar didn’t seem appropriate. “Felt like the thing to do to get the job.”
That made him pause. “Are you saying you would do anything to get this job?”
“There are certain moral and personal parameters I would adhere to,” I said truthfully. “But for the most part, I’m a ten on the scale of desperation, sir.”
His eyes stayed on me and I felt like now I had his full attention.
He didn’t know who I was. Just an unqualified candidate, standing in his office and probably wasting his time. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t just excuse myself, but I didn’t.
“You said a temp agency sent you?” he asked.
“Yes. Emerson Enterprises. I was told the receptionist position for your, I’m guessing this is your company, ad agency is available. But I’m going to admit right now, you don’t have a lot of ads on the walls.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “You’ve got the wrong office.”
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s a marketing agency. It’s Suite 301, down the hall. You’re in 310. Next time, pay closer attention to your directions.”
He held up my resume as a gesture for me to take it.
That couldn’t be right. I couldn’t have blown my chance at an actual job because I inverted two numbers. That was weak ass shit. I boughtworkshoes for this.
“Next!”
I jumped when he shouted, then decided to take out some of my frustration on him. “There is no one else,” I said, snapping my single sheet resume out of his fingers.
“Pardon me?”
“There is no one else,” I repeated. To prove it, I stepped outside his office, noted the empty lobby and stepped back inside. “Gone. All of them. One guy said he was too good to put up with your shit, and the other girl was a self-acknowledged crier. Probably a good move by her.”
He scowled.
“What is this super fancy job anyway?”
“I’m looking for an assistant,” he said, his attention drifting back to his monitors.
“Hold the phone. Literally. I can be an assistant.”
