I wheeled by red leather suitcase in back of me, taking everything in. I had just hopped off my plane, and was still shocked by how big it all was. I was a small town girl from a tiny New Hampshire town, and here I was, finally in London! It was relatively comforting to see a Starbucks; it was a small echo of home, something I could relate to. I walked in and ordered my favorite treat: a Caramel Macchiato. I honestly don't understand why some people don't enjoy them. They're like a coffee ice cream float. I sat down with the lovely concoction, when something hit me: I didn't have a place to stay, or work. I figured I'd find a place for employment, and they could recommend somewhere I could bunk. Hoping this was like home, I wandered to the back of the store. Just like the one in our tiny town, there was a corkboard. I scanned through the fliers until I saw a rather funny looking one: there were cat whiskers at the top.
Wanted!
One relatively intelligent person (male or female) to handle tech, edit, and possibly (if we like you) co-host a web show! We're looking for someone spontaneous, funny, relatively attractive, fun-loving, and a little bit crazy! Please apply by calling:
There was a phone number printed along the bottom of the mint-green page. Well, I thought, Everybody back home thought I was funny and crazy. Maybe I'll apply.
The one problem was: I'm not pretty. I have brown hair that kind of hangs there like a dead thing, eyes that tend to change from grey to green to blue, and pinkish lips. I'm half decent with makeup on.
Well, it's worth a try.
I pulled out my phone checking and double checking to make sure I'd typed it in correctly. It buzzed a few times before the line picked up.
"Hullo?"
"Hi, um, I saw your poster in Starbucks, and well, I thought I'd apply, so…"
"Excellent! Quick question. You're in Starbucks: what drink did you order?"
"Um… a Caramel Macchiato…" I responded, relatively confused.
"Perfect! You've passed the first test! Okay, one of my friends will be at the Starbucks in 5 minutes wearing a neon yellow hoodie. He's going to interview you."
"Okay, I'm wearing a bright red coat."
"Great, I'll tell him. Bye!" The line went dead before I could respond.
I sighed. Well, at least there's enough time to get myself looking decent, I thought, yanking out my makeup bag.
