The looming abyss

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    So there you are in your itchy suit and squeaky shoes with a brand
    new briefcase with that new-leather smell. You’re a bright-eyed, ambitious
    TCU grad. Of course your first job interview will be a breeze,
    what could possibly go wrong? You are fully prepared with a portfolio
    that boasts all your
    greatest accomplishments
    from that in-depth history
    research paper you got a
    B on (it should have been
    an A, but life isn’t always
    fair) to the brilliantly funny
    opinion columns you wrote
    for The Skiff. You smile to
    yourself when you think
    about that last one about
    spring break8212;hilarious.
    Sitting in the waiting room
    with three other applicants,
    you check out the competition
    and realize this isn’t exactly what you thought it would be. A
    couple of people appear to be roughly your age, and three others
    look older than your Dad. One of the applicants, a young woman in
    her mid-20s with designer everything is talking into her cell phone as
    though she were the only one there. “Well, I have done five internships,
    and that year abroad where I learned everything to do with
    this job, and oh yea I was named the cutest, funniest, most-qualified
    person ever, I hope that’s enough,” she says into the phone.
    What? You start to panic. Your advisor always said doing three internships
    gave you a distinct advantage going into the interview
    process. You thought you were covered. You realize your palms are
    sweating and without thinking, wipe them on your skirt. Ew.
    The last applicant is a guy who is popping gum and sitting with
    legs akimbo, completely relaxed. You wish you had some of what
    this guy is smoking, because he appears to be as cool as the proverbial
    cucumber. You try to change the subject in your mind and
    suddenly realize with a start
    that you locked your keys in
    the car … with your portfolio!
    Crap.
    A receptionist comes out
    and calls in the internships
    girl and the gum-popper.
    As they walk out of the
    waiting room together and
    you notice one of the older
    men has fallen asleep and
    you snicker to yourself. Oh
    thank God, your portfolio
    is under the chair after
    all. You still can’t find your
    keys, but that’s okay, you’ll freaking walk home if it means you can
    interview for this job.
    Somehow your confidence returns as you step through that door
    and all the tension melts away. You smile and your prospective boss
    smiles back. The interview goes well though your nerves cause you
    to forget almost every word of what was said as soon as it is over.
    You get to the parking lot and fish out your phone with still shaking
    hands and they have already emailed you a second interview date.
    You think maybe all your worry was for naught and you might just
    float to the house, nevermind the keys