My job interview was scheduled for eight-thirty. At eight, I tugged on a
neat pinstriped dress that I'd been saving until such time as I was forced
to quit my job.
I boarded the subway, got off at my station and walked a few blocks until I reached my destination- 14 West 56th Street, a small green hump of a building that looked odd with the surrounding behemoths. Shrugging off any outward signs of nervousness, I entered the round brown door.
"You must be the secretary! Welcome in, welcome in." This cheerful speech came from a very short woman (even shorter than my five foot one inch- she must have been no more than four foot five!), who seemed to be barefoot. I gulped- this seemed to be a very strange working environment. I sincerely hoped the boss could keep his hands to himself.
I was ushered down a long hallway with brown wallpaper and a soft, luxurious carpet. The boss' office (as I assumed it was) was straight out of a movie- huge fireplace and leather chair (turned to the wall, of course) included. The chair spun around, not without a certain amount of melodramatic flair. The boss was very old, with a long white beard and long white hair. He looked very wise, not the sexual-assaulting type at all, and the short woman ("Estella", her tag read) seemed very much at ease.
"You may go," he told Estella, in a voice which completely fit his 'wise old mentor' exterior.
"Now, you, Miss Weaver," he told me, fixing his blue eyes on me- my eyes, I noticed- so much the better, at least he wasn't looking lower "are the candidate for secretary? This is a very important job in a company such as Istari Offices."
"What do you…do here?" I asked. The last thing I wanted was to sign on to a company that sold illegal drugs, or wrote porn, or something.
"We…" he stopped. "You'll have to take the test first."
I didn't like the sound of this. "Test?"
"Yes…typing. I believe you said 41 WPM?"
I relaxed slightly, "Yes."
After the preemptory Mavis Beacon-esque tests, he seemed to be satisfied.
"Well! You're hired, Miss Weaver. Here's the required reading list."
Required reading list??? What kind of job was this anyway?
"Your wages: seven hundred a week."
Seven hundred? I shut up. For a wage like that, I'd do almost anything!
He handed me a stack of books.
"Read these for next week. Your job starts Monday," he told me. "Here's three hundred in advance."
After putting away the money in my purse, I took a look at the stack in my hands.
The Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, The Histories of Middle Earth?? What? What kind of job was this anyway? At least these weren't illegal contraband or something. Shrugging, I went back to prepare for the big job and to read all those books.
I boarded the subway, got off at my station and walked a few blocks until I reached my destination- 14 West 56th Street, a small green hump of a building that looked odd with the surrounding behemoths. Shrugging off any outward signs of nervousness, I entered the round brown door.
"You must be the secretary! Welcome in, welcome in." This cheerful speech came from a very short woman (even shorter than my five foot one inch- she must have been no more than four foot five!), who seemed to be barefoot. I gulped- this seemed to be a very strange working environment. I sincerely hoped the boss could keep his hands to himself.
I was ushered down a long hallway with brown wallpaper and a soft, luxurious carpet. The boss' office (as I assumed it was) was straight out of a movie- huge fireplace and leather chair (turned to the wall, of course) included. The chair spun around, not without a certain amount of melodramatic flair. The boss was very old, with a long white beard and long white hair. He looked very wise, not the sexual-assaulting type at all, and the short woman ("Estella", her tag read) seemed very much at ease.
"You may go," he told Estella, in a voice which completely fit his 'wise old mentor' exterior.
"Now, you, Miss Weaver," he told me, fixing his blue eyes on me- my eyes, I noticed- so much the better, at least he wasn't looking lower "are the candidate for secretary? This is a very important job in a company such as Istari Offices."
"What do you…do here?" I asked. The last thing I wanted was to sign on to a company that sold illegal drugs, or wrote porn, or something.
"We…" he stopped. "You'll have to take the test first."
I didn't like the sound of this. "Test?"
"Yes…typing. I believe you said 41 WPM?"
I relaxed slightly, "Yes."
After the preemptory Mavis Beacon-esque tests, he seemed to be satisfied.
"Well! You're hired, Miss Weaver. Here's the required reading list."
Required reading list??? What kind of job was this anyway?
"Your wages: seven hundred a week."
Seven hundred? I shut up. For a wage like that, I'd do almost anything!
He handed me a stack of books.
"Read these for next week. Your job starts Monday," he told me. "Here's three hundred in advance."
After putting away the money in my purse, I took a look at the stack in my hands.
The Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, The Histories of Middle Earth?? What? What kind of job was this anyway? At least these weren't illegal contraband or something. Shrugging, I went back to prepare for the big job and to read all those books.