Test Interview

Suitcase in hand, you head to the station. Everyone is moving quickly, everything is predominantly chaotic as you arrive. If only you had come home earlier last night, this would be so much more bearable. The clock on your wrist ticks away each second as you dart through the crowded lanes, and there is no way to focus on anything but the time, as if it is the single enemy to be beat. You catch a glimpse of an elderly woman panicking and wiping tears from her face, so quickly you look the other way, but your conscience gets the best of you, so you look again and stop next to her. “Excuse me, are you okay, M’am, do you need some help?” you softly ask her. Her tears will not cease long enough for her to speak a word, so you ask her if she would like you to stay with her. Realizing you will most likely miss your train, you accept that you will stay with her while she is in need of care and you kiss your timing goodbye - you are now planning to arrive late. Feeling nervous about being late for an important interview, your breath becomes short and your heart beat bursts into quick thumps. “How will this look,” you worry, “my first interview, and I am going to be late! What if I come across as ungrateful, or unorganized. The sweat begins to form and fabric under your arms becomes moist. Fully aware of your discomfort, the elderly lady tries to pass off that she will be okay alone now, and that if you can make it, please try to catch your train. Having the kindest heart within, you cannot bring yourself to leave her until you know she is safe, at least until she is coherent  - she has been crying so long and it seems she is having so much trouble communicating, that she cannot even express what is the matter. You stay with this lady and the time seems to slip away faster than reality could have it. Once you notice the sun setting, you ask her if she is waiting for a train afterall, or if she is on her way to another place. You can see she doesn't have any luggage - actually - you now realize she might be lost. As you ask her if she is lost, her eyes that had finally quit tearing, began so again; though empathetic, you thwart any thoughts of abandoning her. You realize that these thoughts are not valid - your wholehearted choice is to help this woman in need so why bother focusing on the time you are sacrificing when doing so will not help your, or her, situation one bit. The woman is now beginning to slow down her breathing, and the tears are becoming very few. Her voice is finally able to come through, “I am not lost, I am homeless, she tells you. I cannot stop crying because I cannot find any hope or faith in my situation getting better, and I cannot go on this way much longer. I never meant for you to miss your train. I used to think I had bad luck, but I have come to learn that I am bad luck, myself,” she sobs, looking beat. Now that all the trains have left the station until tomorrow morning, you have let go of what you have sacrificed, and give your full attention to hopefully helping this lady feel some sliver of hope in life. Instead of heading home, leaving her to herself once again, you find yourself feeling empathy for her, she must be hungry - surely she could use a nice hot meal. After explaining that you will be catching a new train out tomorrow, you invite her to dinner at a nice family restaurant. She bashfully accepts his invitation, and together you slowly exit the, now mostly empty, train station. 

On your way to a nice sit-down meal, you find out more about this lady. She tells you that she is no longer in contact with her family, and that she has been on the streets for five long years. You inwardly gasp, shocked at the struggles she has survived in these last five years; you wonder if you would have survived as well, or even at all, in her circumstance. As you tell her about yourself, she marvels at your accomplishments, but she is looking as if the information isn’t registering into her mind correctly - she looks confused. Finally her curiosity gets the best of her and she asks, “Are you happy, in life, are you happy, sir?” “Yes, I am,” you go on, “I believe happiness is a choice. I feel by this point in my life, I have practically proven this theory.” “Can you teach me? Can you teach me how to see happiness as a choice, even in my exceedingly dreadful situation,” she urged. Speechless, dumbfounded by her request, you again feel sweat forming on your upper body. “Why must you have this problem, why must you sweat grossly in these everyday situations, and why must you find such difficulty in letting her down by admitting you do not know the answer to her question. Her question feels more like a life quest invitation, and had you the time and resources, you would have done the best in your abilities to help her. There was something about this lady that presented an elevated importance of her getting assistance from someone, fate giving that opportunity to you. She felt like a family member, though you surely have never crossed paths in the past. “Though I cannot teach this life perception to you, I can assure you that it exists, and would give you something attainable to work towards, even in your unusually harsh situation. I wish that was enough to create a positive outlook for you in general, but I am concerned it is not.”  Feeling that wasn’t a good enough answer, you continue on with a new idea, “Actually, would you be interested in meeting me next month? I will take some time to gather a list of hacks you can employ to effectively scheme your brain into thinking in congruence with the belief that happiness is a choice one can make for themselves, regardless of environmental factors, inner blockages you may have preventing you from feeling the way you’d like to. “Yes! That would be great! Sir, thank you. Thank you so much. I will listen with attentiveness and use the knowledge you pass on to me. I’ll also pass the information onto others who need it, as you are providing me. Thank you so much. You know, I am at the station every day, in the same area, by section C1. I hope you will find me there, because this has given me hope for happiness, and faith in humanity.” You say your goodbyes and leave in opposite directions. 

As you get to your car you notice a missed call and realize that in all the disarray you did not actually phone your interviewer to explain your tardiness. Beep! The car door unlocks and you get inside. Your legs feel the chill of the leather seat even through your pants and you shiver just slightly. The phone plugged into your dash, punch in your password and phone the missed number on record. You cannot believe it, you are being congratulated. You have secured the position! Finally you realize this day could not have gone any better, it had been perfect all along. The man on the other end of the phone tells you that this whole day, since you arrived at the train station, was a “test” in place of your interview, and that you passed with better marks than anticipated. What an unexpected turn around of events. The best part of all, is that now you know you are well suited for the job on a personal level. You are expected to show up to work with the same attitude as you did here today at the station, luckily it was your natural attitude. Thank goodness you didn’t give in to the lurking negativity, thank goodness you didn’t give it your energy.