THE INTERVIEW

Missing his first bus he aimed for the number 36. It didn't take him in exactly the direction he needed so he got off at the stop before the bus diverted up towards town , walked 500 meters or so in the opposite direction and headed back on course. He found the next bus stop along his path as he heard a big diesel engine, turning his head as he moved he saw a bid big red bus about to cath up with him. Up went his knees into a full run hurtling towards the bus stop that was, maybe, just maybe within reach.
That was over 25 minutes ago and he was now back on track but what a morning it had been. Everythng was always last minute, always had been. The morning had been a tough one to crack but he was now where he needed to be. The interview was in just under 15 minutes and he was in the imediate vacinity.
It was then that the morning demands caught up with him. When he finally relaxed he felt the rumbling from his belly which was lacking in nourishment. "Shit" he suddenly realised he haden't ate and it was nearly lunchtime. The last thing that was needed right now was a hungry stomach sounding over his soon to be exagerated claims. The interveiw had to go well, it was the first time he had reach this point in an application for ages.
OK i need something quick and filling but mostly cheap. There was a conveinience store up the road, it took him past his turn but this was important. Carefully skipping through the traffic , he made it to the other side of the junction. The store window was plastered with special offers, promotions and advertising so and it was difficult to see inside.
Through the heavy glass door was food and he pushed hard against the handle, it swung inwards to reaveal hidden treasure of the convienience world. Hurriedey hunting down the refrigerated area he saw a four foot wide cold shelf litterd with, with almost nothing at all. What was this, his arms raised from his side in an exasperated moevment. A voice spoke from behind him "moring rush sir, everyone buys their lunches early".
His only responce was a grunt in dissapointment.
"very good nice sanwiches you see" said the voice again.
In total there was a sausage roll which had its inners squashed, a fuit dish of - who cares and a packet of prawn cocktail sandwiches. Prawn he thought, the worst of any choice he may have had.
"Very fresh my friend, made new everyday" as if the shopkeeper had read his mind.
Oh well , you have this choice, Prawn or Prawn and so prawn it was. Grabbing the packet he turned on his heels to meet the voice who had cheerily helped him along. Placing the packet on the counter it was snatched quickly by a weathered dark hand, with yellowing nails.
"£3.85 please sir".
Wait a minute. How much? "£3.85 for a prawn sandwich? really" he responded.
"yes my friend, very good sandwiches, that is why your choice is restricted. I sell a hundred a day”.
The till started to ring out and his mind sprang to action “oh I will have a packet of these too” tossing a packet of mint gum onto the counter. No need to stink of prawn when he started to exageratre his claims of brilliance. He collected the change and thanked the shopkeeper as he dropped the coins into his hand with politness and a beaming smile.
Outside there was a low wall that jutted from the shop front so he plonked himself down to eat. Actually the sandwaich was nice, it was very nice indeed. Now in the imediate vacinity of the interview he relaxed as he ate. His mind drifted over the morning events that led to all the delays.
First there was the tie, the tie that was not in the place he thought it was. Then the pants, creased, tatty and full of dog hairs. What was next he puzzled, oh yes the shirt with the missing buttons no good at all. A second shirt was sought and though it would nevr have been what he wanted, ike the prawn sandwhich his choices was limited to that or nothing. Lastly there were the shoes, his best shoes he called them. The pair rearely used at all but which were in the shoe cupboard AKA the cupboard under the stairs. Buried a beneath leather and plastic shoes discarded by his mother and sister over the years. At last he found one then the other but alas they were dull, flat and scuffed, how did that happen?
Polished and shined, they were the rules and one rule he had always been taught to abide by.
Then he was here, with the prawns gone he popped two pieces of gum into his mouth. Checked his face in a empty spot in the shop window before turning towards his destination. Round the corner and accross the side street up the curb and the company logo above the door was in sight.
With his hand against the door he pushed as he peered through the glass at the reception. The door gave and he leaned in and stepped over the threshold, just as his shoe hit an unexpected step. Embarrassed he straightened himself and glanced down at the offending obstacle.
It was then that he saw it, then that he stopped stomach in mouth. Slimy, pink but rather juicy prawns smeard accross the toe of his shiny black shoes!