Running Late

    Running Late

Suzanne Marsh

The interview was scheduled for eight thirty; I am not a morning person, so my alarm was supposed to go off at seven. The time was eight o’clock when I awoke. I sprang out of bed with fireman-like haste and took a two-minute shower. Quickly put on a white power suit, heels, and stockings, and put a run in the stockings. I grabbed a cup of coffee, it was a good thing I had made it the night before, I had no time to spare. I hoped I had not missed the bus which went right past the building where the interview was to take place; if I did I would have to start the entire process again. The opportunity was just too good to miss out on; a Fortune 500 company, the best medical coverage available, a 401K and the salary was twice the amount that I was making. I clamored for the bus, missed the step; stumbled, and broke a heel. I paid the bus fare and then took a seat; I then assessed the damage done to the heel, I held it in my hand wondering what to do since the only other shoes I had in my backpack were dingy, grungy tennis sneakers. This was no way to go to an interview, especially with this company I was applying to. I was just going to have to accept; I was not going to get the job; who hires a white power suit and sneakers?

I sat collecting my thoughts, I had put together a portfolio several days before my interview. Momentarily I had things almost under control. I went through the portfolio in my mind, had I forgotten anything? I hoped I had not there was so much riding on this interview; my life’s work in a small folder. The bus rumbled on, somehow this did not look like the area I had been in when I had the first interview; oh no had I gotten on the wrong bus? Where was I? I had no idea; I made my way up to the bus driver:

“Sir what route number is this I need route four Finch and Fourth.” The driver informed me I was on Bus Route Seven; the Herkimer and Highland. I was beginning to show signs of hysteria, and the driver told me to please return to my seat:

“I have an appointment at 8:30 this morning; it is essential to my work. Can’t you do

something, to help me, please? Maybe turn this bus around and take me to my appointment.”

The bus driver was taken aback, he replied:

“Look lady, I am not a taxi service I can’t just change routes to satisfy you.”

I glared at the bus driver:

“I need to be let off where I can hail a taxi, can you at least manage that?”

I could hear the sarcasm rising in my voice; this was getting me nowhere. I decided to try another approach:

“Sir, where can I disembark and catch a taxi?” That sounded less demanding and less sarcastic. That seemed to placate the bus driver:

“Next stop get off, go left then go right again, that will put you on Philadelphia Street, taxis

run all day. Hey, and good luck with your interview.”

I turned around and thanked him for his help; he reminded me of the directions he had given me. He must have been watching me in one of his mirrors as I began to go right instead of left, I heard his horn beep; I was already going the wrong way. I turned myself around trying to remember his exact directions. I pulled out my cell phone, called the Fortune 500 company, and asked to speak to Megan Moscowitz, the person I was supposed to meet with:

“Megan, this is Margo Frothmeyer; I apologize I will be roughly forty minutes late.

It is a rather long and not very pretty story.” Megan chuckled as I told her about everything that had happened that morning:

“Margo, since this is the second interview, just do the best you can; to be here before noon.” I thanked her profusely, then disconnected the phone. I saw taxi cabs just as the bus driver said I would. I hoped there would be no further mishaps, I think someone forgot to tell Murphy, that means miserable creature! I knew I was a mess; I was having a bad hair day, and my hair was now standing on end. My power suit wasn’t exactly white and the sneakers were horrible; still, I would have to go as I was.

I began to think about a story I had read as a child, Alice in Wonderland. I could hear the words of the White Rabbit: “I’m late, I’m late for a very important date, I have no time to say hello goodbye I’m late, I’m Late…” as the White Rabbit went down his rabbit hole. I wondered if I would ever be even close to being on time, what a fiasco this had turned out to be!

Several taxi cabs went by; I hailed each one I thought maybe my suit skit should have been mini instead of midi; maybe it would get attention quicker. The next cabby actually stopped:

“Where to lady?” I promptly gave him the address:

“Lady, how did you end up over here?” That was simple I informed him I got on the wrong bus!

He drove quickly by now I was in a frenzy. I looked in his mirror, I was completely disheveled, I noted that my white suit was almost black in some spots, I think that was from when I missed the step on the bus and I sprawled onto the floor. Well, at least the sneakers matched the suit now.

I strode into the Fortune 500 Company, the receptionist looked up and gave a slight gasp:

“May I help you?”

“Yes,” I replied:

“I have an appointment with Megan Markowitz; my name is Margo Frothmeyer. She is

expecting me.”

The receptionist cleared her throat, and she then let Megan know I had arrived...finally. Megan came out of her office, extended her hand; then had me follow her to her office. She told me anyone who would go through the problems I had this morning was deserving of a job; I could begin on Monday. I must have really looked terrible, my hair was no doubt standing on end, my white power suit had to go to the cleaners, and my heels would never be the same. I survived the day!