(Short fiction by Luana Krause)
So I went for this job interview at a bank, and like, it was so weird. I waited for, like, ten minutes in the lobby and I was so BORED I thought I was gonna DIE. I couldn’t stand it any longer and checked out their magazines. You would think they’d have cool mags like “People” or “In Style.” No such luck. All they had was, like, generic. You know, “Time” and “Newsweek.” Like, who reads THAT!
Finally, this lady called my name and I went into this, like, HUGE office. The boss was sitting at this really big desk and asked me to sit down. He was a fat dude, and bald, but super nice. He’s all, “Why do you want to work at this bank?” And I’m all, “Because I need a job.” And he’s all, “What skills do you have?” And I’m all, “I can use a computer and talk on the phone.” And he’s all, “Are you good with numbers?” And I’m all, “Duh. I’ve got five credit cards and not one is maxed out yet.” And he’s all, “Do you enjoy dealing with the public?” And I’m all, “Shut up! I deal with the public all the time. I go to the mall, like, every Saturday.”
He stood up and shook my hand. And he’s all, “I’ll get back to you. Have a nice day.” I know he’s gonna offer me the job. He’ll be like, “When can you start?” And I’ll be like, “Right away.”
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