I applied for a job at a public-relations firm, but given my inexperience, I didn’t expect to hear back. So I was beside myself when they called me a week later to schedule an interview.
I took the day off from the maintenance crew and dressed in my best job-hunting suit. My girlfriend, Katrina, helped me put on my tie.
“You’re going to get this one,” she said, tightening the tie and pecking me on the lips. “I can feel it.”
I rubbed my stomach. “That’s good, because all I can feel is nausea. Interviews always make me so nervous.”
“Just picture the interviewers in their underwear,” Katrina said. “It’s an old trick that should help you feel better. When you picture your potential bosses in their underwear, it makes them not seem so intimidating.”
An imagine flashed across my mind of my current boss, Crew Leader Carl, standing in his underwear. His hair hung in greasy strands across his shoulders, and he was flashing me a toothless smile like a deranged Calvin Klein model.
“Excuse me,” I said to Katrina, pushing past her.
“What’s the matter?” she called.
“My nausea’s getting worse,” I said. “I think I’m going to hurl!”