Suited, and suited

The interview went well, thanks for asking.
I arrived, full of fear and caffeine, 25 minutes before the manager did. Mr Patel (for ‘tis his name) was impressed and invited me into his office. I spoke courteously and intelligently, and I managed to suppress all farts despite having had a Bumper King Size Breckfest (sic) at Fat Barry’s. I held it all in until the bus stop on the way home, then it all came out like the rush of wind you get when a train pulls in on the Tube. Such relief. And such horror on the faces of the pensioners behind me. “When you gotta go, you gotta go” I said as charmingly as I could. One of them smiled weakly while the other one fought the urge to vomit.
Anyway – the interview. Mr Patel says I “show great promise” and have “just the sort of thing the store is looking for” I had to take a quick ‘aptitude’ test before I left and if that goes well, the jobs mine. I feel quietly confident. The hardest question was “If a shirt costs £4.60, and a customer gives you a five-pound note, how much change should you give them?” And the question was MULTIPLE-CHOICE!! Incredible.
All being well, I could be gainfully employed within two weeks!

Haiku To Celebrate A Successful Job Interview:

I went for a job
I could do with my eyes shut
I think it is mine

I just hope they have a uniform that fits me..

RC 12-9-08
0915 BST