On being old and knowing it too!

The other day I applied for a job and was invited to an interview with a prospective employer. The odds were against me but in such cases where one has nothing to lose the correct thing to do is to say yes and to act. At best you get what you want and at worse you are in the same position that you started in. Yes, life can be as simple as that at times.

So I sat down in the office and looked around me; two other people were there seated, young by the looks of it and totally immersed in their intelligent apple. I, the old foggy at 52, was looking at the walls of the room, and then looking at my shoes, and then again looking at the walls. Such pretty walls. I then examined my hands and counted my fingers. I was pleasantly numbed by all this. The room looked more like the waiting room of a dentist or doctor, except that there were no magazines to read. I suppose that you do not need magazines when you have a zillion of them available in your intelligent apple.

I observed the young people; both were casually dressed and relaxed, while I was dressed more for an outing at a restaurant, minus the tie. I hate those devices whose sole purpose is to cut off the flow of oxygen to the brain of the person foolish enough to wear them. I suppose that it is necessary if you want to pontificate on important subjects but as I had nothing to pontificate on, I will leave that to politicians and bureaucrats and of course, the pope.

Finally I am ushered to the interview room along with another prospect. The person doing the interview was probably in their mid-20’s and was exceedingly polite. It all felt awkward, as if somehow we were discussing funeral preparations for a loved one. The other prospect was probably in his late 20’s and was more of a show-off so I was happy when the interviewer focused on him rather than me with his questions.

After this interview came another interview and again, the interviewer was probably in his late 20’s to early 30’s. I took it all in stride. I still remember when I was the youngest in the company, and then I saw steadily how I became the oldest in the company. None of this is worthy of doing a song and dance number of course. As long as I don’t see the grim reaper running after me I will be content and continue on my old foggy ways.

In the end I did not get the job after wasting nearly four solid hours of my life and at 52, this matters more than at 22. I can still hear the grim reaper laughing at me as I exited the building.

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