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My submission in a caption competition. It literally was 20 minutes from deciding to write something to handing it in. Quality accordingly. But then it did win the competition. But then there weren't many other submissions.

"We'll be in here. Welcome!" the man shouted from a door opening of the old house behind all the scaffolding. "I wasn't sure this was the right place," I answered, hoping it didn't come out as a dig. Westman & Associates is a big deal, but I was surprised that the address given for the job interview was way outside the city, in what looked like an old farm village. "Richard Altman," the man said and held out his hand. "James Friedman" I answered and shook his hand. He wasn't that much older than me, but oozed authority. Muscular build, short-cropped hair, and wearing a three-piece suit that looked quite out of place for this old building. I was worried I would be overdressed in my suit as I approached these buildings, but I think this is the right balance. "Have a seat," he said and waved at one of two chairs arranged opposite each other in the small room to the right inside the house.

"We try to do all our more specialized hiring outside the office, to avoid rumors and speculations, both internally and externally," he explained. "I'm sorry I can't offer you any coffee, but the well doesn't operate here yet. So, James, what can you tell me about yourself?"

I jumped into the one thing you can rehearse, your own CV. I'd read that you should prepare something that would work both for someone who hadn't seen your CV as well as someone who had carefully studied it before. Start with the oldest, but work your way quickly to the newer stuff and focus on the merits you think would carry over to the new position. His stare from my first word was intense, looking straight into my eyes. I held his gaze with my own as I started to recite my three-minute pitch. I don't know why, but I really wanted to break away but at the same time couldn't. Like some sort of competition or dare or maybe a test that I was determined to not fail. Everything I said sounded unconvincing to me. As soon as I said it my mind cringed and screamed how I should have said it instead. I could feel myself starting to sweat. They were the color between grey and blue, whatever it is called. The eyes. His eyes. Did I say the same sentence twice now? His facial expression didn't change. Is he even listening? Why should he be listening? Nothing I say is interesting? Why would they need me for anything? Not for anything on my CV anyway. It's called steel blue isn't it? I can't look at them anymore.

There was a loud squeak as I shifted in the chair and looked away from him. "I think you have just what we are looking for. You'll be answering to me directly." Somehow that filled me with more joy than I'd felt in a long time. I looked back at him, his shiny leather shoes at least. He got up from his chair, took the step over, and put his hand on my head. "You can start your training right away. Let me introduce you to the rest of your team."

"Yes, Sir."

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