‘Well sir, we’ve got seven hopefuls lined up for the position.’
‘They’re a motley looking lot,’ notes the boss.
He scans the applicants seated on white plastic chairs from left to right. They stare straight ahead at the grey wall in front of them, broken only by a rectangular frosted window.
As the boss’s side kick, I stand beside him, peering through the other side of the window. The clear glass on this side gives us a great vantage point to scrutinise the applicants without their knowledge.
‘Have you spoken to any of them?’ asks the boss.
‘I didn’t think it was necessary, sir,’ I say.
‘Point taken’, says the boss. ‘Who have we got here then?’
‘Let’s start with Marthaon the left. She’s a high school teacher. Her CV says, and I quote, ‘patience is my greatest strength. From kids eating glue to assaulting teachers, I’ve seen it all. I’ve mastered the art of staying calm, no matter what is happening around me.’
‘Mm. Not sure about the maroon jumper. Might be too colourful for this job,’ says the boss.
‘Next to Martha isSajid. He’s an IT specialist and looks totally chilled, don’t you think?’
‘He’d be a right bore then. Perfect for this position.’
‘Yeah, right. He’s oozing with confidence too I’d say. Look where he places his hands.’
‘Mm,’ says the boss dismissively. ‘Who’s next?’
‘That’s Amy, sir, a marathon runner. No experience in this type of work but thinks the job might give her a bit of relaxation between training.’
‘I’d say she hasn’t spent much time on the job description then. Looks like she’s about to take a sprint now,’ says the boss.
‘Bang in the middle, we’ve got Joe. He likes hanging out in cafes, drinking espresso and people watching.’
‘Good credentials. But eight hours without an espresso? He won’t last a day.’
‘Next to Joe is Mako. She’s a part time security guard and takes no nonsense from anyone.’
The boss pauses, scratching his head.
‘Mm … not sure the job will be challenging enough for this toughy.’
‘The grandpa there is Albert. He’s centred and focused, but for how long? Can his bladder last the distance?’
‘Yeah, that’s right. Old men and their bladders ….,’ the boss laughs, fully aware he’s one himself.
‘Finally, that’s Ben on the far right. He’s a former priest. Still in his clergy outfit by the looks of it.’
‘Mm …. Notice how the others have their arms in their laps. Not this one. He’s gripping the chair like his life depends on it . And did you catch that? He blinked?’
‘No sir. I believe he winked.’
The boss frowns with arms akimbo.
‘I don’t think any of these applicants cut the mustard. Let’s re-advertise for a fresh batch.’
The door swings open. We stride forward, standing before the applicants. None of them dare to glance sideways.
‘Sorry folks, the position of ‘reception office statue’ has been filled. You can all go home.’
Footnote
‘This short story was written in response to the featured image posted by the Australian Writers Centre as an entry for their monthly Furious Fiction competition. Thank you to iStock by Getty Images for providing the free image.’
