The Elation of the Revolving Doors of Joy


Here’s the story of Scrabble, an interview, and unwedgieing.

Am I the only one who has a love affair with revolving doors? You never see them. I mean, sure, if you live in a big city like London or Manchester, you see them all the time. But here, never. I can’t remember the last time I saw one before this week came along. I can’t remember the last time I used one. It’s a special, rare occasion. To me, they’re like when a remote African village sees a television camera for the first time. There’s something so wonderful about these revolving doors. Something so satisfying about pushing them, the gentle whisper of the brushes feathering along the floor. It brings back memories of the first time you encountered one of these strange beasts, often as a child, resulting in an elated jog around and around in circles, much to the annoyance of your parents. Honestly, revolving doors are the best thing since… regular doors. They are completely pointless but an endless source of joy. And joy of joys, I encountered one this week! In my little town! It was incredible. A revolving door! What? What is it, readers? No, I haven’t gone crazy, because I know for a fact that you, too, love revolving doors. You may not admit it, but next time you use one, I guarantee there’ll be a little smile on your face…

I was attending an interview. Sadly, my joy over the building’s entrance gave way rather quickly to my utter stupidity at mishearing what floor I was due on. I’m sorry, I know life for those with a lisp is hard, but if you have one, you really shouldn’t work at the reception of a building with more than three floors. Because ‘first’ and ‘third’ sound identical. I’m not being a jackass, I know life is hard, I really do, but, come on, there must be a building with less than three floors you can reception at. I’m just being honest. It was a tad hard to understand and I ended up on the first floor. When I was meant to be on the third. It wasn’t a great start to the interview, if I’m being honest. To make matters worse, I actually photographed this building extensively when it was being built. Erm, whoops.

The second I sat down for the interview, I immediately regretted choosing to wear tight underwear. I really don’t get the appeal of tight underwear. It’s so uncomfortable. No wonder women don’t like wearing thongs. They’re completely nonsensical. Underwear should be for comfort and for nothing else. I know some people want to have sexy looking underwear, but think about that for a moment. Underwear serves the same purpose as a woolly hat. It’s there for protection. No one is gonna see it! So why does it matter? Self-confidence? Well, I’m sorry, but comfort takes precedence over sexiness. I must stress, when I said ‘serves the same purpose as a woolly hat’, I wasn’t suggesting that there are people who wear underwear on their heads. I’m sure there are, but, not my point.

It’s like when you want to sneeze in church. I have underwear in incredibly uncomfortable places, but I couldn’t exactly go fishing it out now, could I? The older I get, the more incredible I find women. You never see them fishing out their underwear, which, to be honest, is mostly the ‘sexy variety’. Ergo, ‘uncomfortable’. I find that level of tolerance incredible. On the other hand, women may be quite good at being discrete about a good unwedgieing, which I also find incredible. It’s pure envy on my part. I must stress, my knowledge of the sexiness of the majority of ladies underwear is twofold. One, almost every department store opens onto the ladies section, and two, I keep ending up shopping with women. How many bloody pairs do they need! It’s illogical! As Spock would say. In general, not about underwear, that would be a very different type of Trek…

To be honest, thinking about one’s underwear at an interview is actually quite a good thing. No, really, it is. You’re not worried about what questions will be asked. Of course, there is a line to find. If you become too involved in thoughts of uncomfortable underwear, those thoughts can bleed into your subconscious. It’s all you can think about. And that can be described as nothing more than a recipe for mayhem. “So, Alan, what is your best quality?” “UNDERWEAR!”

If you think about it, an interview is like going on a date. I mean, I’ve never been on a date, so I’m just guessing. You know, you don’t know the building very well. It’s all a bit awkward. You find yourself in places you’re not supposed to be. I think I’m lost in a metaphor, here. But anyway, you find the going quite hard. You don’t know what to say. It’s all a bit uncomfortable. Now you might get the job, which is brilliant, because you often find yourself quite liking the place, and would like a second bite at the cherry. And you never know, you might get lucky and find the canteen is well stocked at reasonable prices. And that the fruit does indeed taste quite delectable. And you might end up being there for ten years and become a father… figure. On the other hand, she might think you’re a complete spanner and will never want to see you again. In which case, you dust yourself off and get ready for the next dance. Quite a great many things in life are like that aren’t they?

I was at the optometrist this week. She was a hoot. Real purty. We didn’t know each other. And before we knew it, we were chatting quite freely. All, “Option 1 – or, Option 2.” And I was all, “Option 1.” And you know, it ended amicably with a free pair of glasses that I enjoyed immensely. I’m gonna stop with the metaphors now, I’m not good at them. My eyes were fine, in case you’re wondering. No change. Still as blind as the proverbial sun watcher as I was when I first started wearing eyeglasses a decade ago. Marvellous. Still a dork.

The interview was for work experience, but to make it realistic, they made the interview as real as possible. Data input. I’d be good at that. In fact, the only job I’d be better at is ‘door opener’. Especially if it’s a revolving door. I don’t know if I’ll get it. But it’ll sure beat sitting around the house all day playing Scrabble with some Chinese kid who I swear is far too clever for his supposed age. On the plus side, it may get me out of three days of constant furniture moving I’m currently booked in for. It’s for a local school having building work done, but I don’t like children, so I don’t care if their school isn’t ready in time.

If I get this work experience, you know what I’m most looking forward to?

Going through those revolving doors come each new day.

Honestly, I can’t think of a better way to start my morning…

Afghan journalist, linguist and author, Malik Faisal Moonzajer (b. 1989), once said, “Do not fear facing people without your pants; the world is dirtier than your underwear.”

Peace Out :|:

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post below, or by clicking the title on the top of this post if you are on the archives page. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks.

Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:

To Contrive & Jive
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
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Hark Around the Words
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