It’s normal to be a bit nervous before your interview. Everyone deals with their fair dose of anxiety and sweaty palms. Mind drifting to unfavorable possibilities only to bring you back to the present with menacing force. I tried to be calm and composed and it felt like it was working , only that it did not. The sinking feeling overwhelming me , the emptiness in the stomach , dryness of the throat not easily eased by the quench of water.
I was alone , waiting in a normal office environment. The receptionist gave me a blank look. Nothing too particularly odd about that. I think she was a bit preoccupied with playing Hearts on what looked like Windows 98. That seemed a bit odd to me. Its 2013 , why is her PC still running Windows 98. I concluded that she liked the old school.
A small ring of the bell and I was summoned through the PA system. I was the only candidate present there. I was a bit happy about that – statistically increased my chances of getting hired. I fixed my looks and clutched my folder that had the best of me. I re-arranged my hat and entered the interview room.
The door shut behind me and what I saw was completely mind-numbing.
A large room , as big as an auditorium. Spotless white. It was literally – just all white. Just a huge desk with ten people (interviewers) sitting there. All dressed in white. Clear crystal glasses of water , all precisely half-full. There were no windows , just some ventilation shafts. The hall (as I like to call it) was chilly and I could feel the vigor out of my hands fading away , or it may have been my nervousness amplified by my visions of the moment.
As any confident interviewee would do , I walked up to each one of them and shook their hands. I had to leave a good impression. I read each of their names and tried to remember , so that when I am answering them , I could be specific. My seat was about 8 meters away from the ten.
From left to right , I read –
Delphine LaLaurie , Ilse Koch , Shirō Ishii , Ivan IV , Oliver Cromwell , Jiang Qing , Pol Pot , Heinrich Himmler , Adolf Hitler and Josef Stalin.
All of them smiled at me , but I could tell they were reading me , scanning me – judging me. Especially Mr.Hitler. He had a funny mustache , and I tried not to giggle (although I did leave a chuckle – he was not amused).
And then , the questions began.
The Quasar Syncopation 