The Interview

I sat in the cold room alone, fingering the corner of my resume. Were they watching me? Through the conference room door I could see the receptionist. She looked bored and entirely uninterested in me. I glanced at my watch: 2:28. I never liked arriving for an interview too early. It gave me time to worry, to psych myself out. I smoothed my skirt again and looked at my shoes. Why did I wear that pair? Shabby. Not a good first impression.

The door opened and I jumped to my feet. A man and woman entered the room together. His balding head reflected a shine from the overhead lights. I could see specks of dandruff on his black polo. The woman with him was much shorter. With each step, her pert curls bounced lightly off her salmon colored suit. Each held a legal pad and a copy of my resume. We exchanged introductions, and I shook their hands. My hand was wet, clammy. I'm not impressing anyone here. I stifled a cough, letting out a little croak. Embarrassing. My face flushed red, hot.

The man shut the door and invited me to sit across the conference table from them. We discussed my resume briefly. My education was solid, my work history spotty. The woman lobbed a few easy questions my way - all of the textbook interview items: my biggest weaknesses, my goals. I had rehearsed this, but my answers felt thick and dumb as they came out of my mouth. The interview dwindled to an uncomfortable silence very quickly. I shifted in my seat.

"Is there anything else we should know? Anything that you think would be important to the decision we have to make?" The man leaned back in his chair, his body language telling me that the interview was over. I could see him mentally crossing my name off of his list and moving on to the next candidate.

I needed this job. I needed to pull this one out of the fire.

I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. In a single motion I pulled my blade out of my suit pocket and lunged across the table. With efficiency and speed, I drew the knife across the woman's throat. She gurgled and sputtered, choking. She grabbed her throat and made a wet, gutteral sound. Her eyes rolled back and she slumped in her chair. Silently, I returned the blade to my pocket. Oddly, I thought about the gore. I'd have to wash my coat later.

The man leaned forward and extended his hand. "Welcome to the firm. Are you available to start Monday?"