TITLE: CONVENTIONAL DEMON
The interview was a catastrophe. It started out fine-better than fine. Kyle, the sales manager for the bumper sticker company, Illumination Studios, met me in the warm confines of a nearby Starbucks, purchased me a grande green tea, and selected a table in the corner, away from the door and the cold blast of November air every customer brought in with them. Soft music, cappuccino-machine clacks and whirs, and the murmur of conversation created a cocoon of privacy.
I handed Kyle a copy of my resume, though his company already had one on file, and settled in, determined to prove myself the mandatory employee for the boring junior sales associate position. I wasn't particularly qualified and I would normally have rather peeled hangnails than perform cold calls-which is what I strongly suspected the position was, despite the trumped-up ad in The Sacramento Bee-but four weeks, seven failed interviews, and bills that were copulating like bunnies with each successive day of unemployment proved very strong motivators.
Strong enough for me to ignore the desperate reason I'd applied for the job in the first place.
Kyle set my resume to the side of the table without glancing at it. He scrutinized me over the top of his grande dry cappuccino. Kyle exuded salesman, from his maroon button-up shirt and khaki trousers to his thinning brown hair with its frosted tips.