The tie
I didn't understand at first. There are two ends to the thing. It goes around the neck. You tie it. That part is what I do understand.
What my problem is, is that it does not come out looking very nice. Not like the ones other people wear. Mine is all crooked and shoddy; theirs, on the other hand, are always meticulously tight and neat and straight.
It would not normally worry me too much. Or not all: I have very few reasons to wear one. Normally.
This day, though, was quite different. This was the day of days: the day where I was having the interview for the job of my dreams. Or, at least, the first job after school that promised a decent pay, and a decent shot at moving up and on in life. Getting my own place to live, getting decent wheels. Having some spare change, for once.
And who knows, and stranger things have been known to happen: get a girl, get down with her, have a family of my own. That would show them, all of them: my family, who never believed I would go anywhere; the few friends, who generally think of me as the eternal nerd who will forever live in a dorm, eating Chinese takeaways (and having the empty boxes around to prove it.)
That damn tie, though. See: this job would require that I went out and talked to people, like customers and such. Gotta look nice for that. And if I couldn’t even manage to look halfway decent for the interview -- well, you get the picture.
I was waiting in a cold, spare room on the seventeenth floor. Nice view of the city below; cheap plastic chairs (one wonders why? It is not as if this is the poorest corporation, is it now?)
But not a mirror in sight. And with my near non-existent tie-tying skills -- I do need one. Badly.
And time was of essence, now, and it was running out. Only minutes to go. I was breaking a quiet sweat, and started having that sinking feeling. I felt positively queasy. Too bad, though: I knew I was just the one for the job -- except for the tie thing. I was close to panic. Actually: more than close. I was panicking.
There was s noise behind me. This old geezer (he must have been more than close to retirement) came in through a door I had not until then noticed, and started cleaning. He puttered about, not even looking at me, not even talking to me. Only humming this silly, old tune (what was it? It was something I could almost remember, but not quite.)
Tick-tock. There goes the job. I felt drained. All the good things that should have, could have happened were suddenly fading away, and I could see myself, forever the nerd in the dorm (until they get rid of me, and then what? Move back with my parents? Find a bridge somewhere?)
I sat down, and hold me head in my hands. I was not crying, but close -- it is only that I don’t tend to cry in public. So much hope. And now gone, just because of such a stupid, useless piece of apparel.
I heard a noise from the inner office. They were getting ready to come and call me, and that would be it.
I got up, and had almost decided to just leave right there, call it a day, call it quits, and go meet that dreadful fate of mine.
The old janitor looked up at me, and smiled. He gestured. Yeah, the tie. Even he can see the disaster.
Then he stepped over to where I was standing, and reached out, and touched the tie -- and I kid you not: barely touched it at all -- and it just fell into place, into a nice, straight knot, and then the door opened.
№ 1/1