Interview

9:58am James arrives for his job interview as a part time cleaner at a dog food factory.

James: *knocks on the door whilst entering* Hello, I’m here for the interview for the cleaning role here.

Richard: Hello, hello, come on in, sit down will you. 

James passes across his CV and sits there nervously as the interviewer, Richard, flicks through his CV.

Richard: James Harbison?

James: Yes, Sir.

Richard: Awfully close to James Harrison, don’t you think?

James starts to get a little flustered and adjusts himself in the seat.

James: Well, uhh, yes sir, I suppose it is.

Richard: *Sighs* I guess we'll just have to make do. Provided you get the job, what is your stance on the lads round here calling you Harrison? It’s just not to confuse everyone around here, you know how it is.

James: Would it not be less confusing if they just called me James?

Richard: Anyway, less of the small talk. So, it says here you’re applying for the cleaning role here at CHOMPS?

James: That’s right.

Richard: It also says here that your emergency contact is Collin Harbison, your uncle? *Laughs and shakes his head*  Well...I have never heard of that. An Uncle! As your emergency contact!

James: Well it's just that he lives closer than any of my immediate family, so I would have imagined it would have been the most sensible option?

Richard: James...may I call you James?

James: Yes?

Richard: Let me give you a little, uhhh, let’s call it a hypothetical? Imagine, your Uncle Collin gets a deadly disease. Let’s try to think about what disease… 

Richard sits there scratching his chin and pondering, whilst James sits awkwardly waiting for the interview to be over.

Richard: Lets say...uhhhh… Lung Cancer? No, no, not lung cancer. Let's say… Bowel cancer! That’s it. Lets say your Uncle Collin has terminal bowel cancer. He is sitting at home, he can’t stop his own flatulence to save his life, his rectum is bleeding and there is blood in his feces. What are you going to do if there's an emergency?

James: Umm, well I think I’d probably call my Mum, Sir.

Richard: Right, ok. 

Richard takes rigorous notes, then closes the file and proceeds to put them in his desk draw

Richard: So, what is your experience like in the “cleaning” profession?

James: Well, I’ve actually worked in two fast food restaurants, McDonalds and -

Richard: Josh, listen, I’m going to level with you. This is a factory which produces and distributes the cheapest of dog food. The smell of the reception and admittedly the smell of this office is foul. That is just the smell of the factory floor unable to be contained. The factory floor smells worse than you could possibly imagine.

James: Well, I worked on a farm as a summer job when I was 15, sir, I think I can handle it! *Awkwardly chuckles*

Richard: Hmmm…

Richard stands up and looks out of the window of his office, whilst stroking his chin

Richard: The men here are very very unhappy, Joe, I must tell you. They spend at least 12 hours a day, 4 days a week in this God forsaken hell cesspit. Some of the packed lunches I witness the men eating here are car crashes. Have you ever seen someone eat a corned beef sandwich topped with wotsits, Jim?

James: I haven’t sir.

Richard: Of course you haven’t *chuckles* I witnessed a man smoke 3 Spanish imported Lambert & Butlers on a ten minute break. 

Richard gestures for James to make some input into the conversation

James: Wow, uhh, that’s some fantastic lung strength, sir

Richard: You’re absolutely correct. As I was saying, the men here are very unhappy and this unhappiness translates into their home life. Many of them divorced alcoholics. Have you ever smelled the shit of a divorced, alcoholic, middle aged man who works in a dog food factory? 

James: I haven’t, I imagine it’s, uh, really bad.

Richard: Well you’ll have to be dealing with A LOT of that *Chuckles* Anyway, let’s crack on with this interview shall we. *looks at James’ CV for about 30 seconds*  So, it says here your Grandmother died in the first week of 2009, is that true? 

James: Wait, what? It doesn’t say that on my CV and how did you know that?

Richard: *Leans back in chair whilst chewing on biro* 2009, hmmm, that would have made you what, 11? 12?

James: Yeah, 12. Sir, can I ask how you know this and how this is relevant to the vacancy?

Richard: Ouch, 12. 12 years old. Fresh faced, just off the back of your first christmas as a high schooler. Wow, that must have been tough. If I’m honest with you Josh, If my Grandmother died at that age I would have, pardon my french, fucking shit the fuck out of myself. You know what I mean?

James: You know what, I think I best leave