this is the stuff that dreams are made of

Melissa popped out of bed 15 minutes earlier than she'd planned to, hurriedly showered, ate a bowl of Frosted MiniWheats, put on her brown pearl earrings, tucked that stray hair behind a bobby pin one last time, and scuttled out the door. As she walked down the street to the metro station, she noticed a soft scent of lilacs weaving through the air despite the traffic and high-rises. Today was her first big interview in her first big city.

Somewhere between train stations she put on her lipstick and swapped her flip-flops for stockings and black pumps. Glancing into her compact she checked her make up one last time. Finally it was her stop. Rushing out of the train and up from the underground with everyone else, she came into the May morning sun.

The familiarity of this particular station was a bit unsettling. Melissa quickly reminded her flip-flopping stomach that she respected herself more than to get flustered before this interview over something as unimportant as a boy. She quickly glanced at the street sign on the corner, got her bearing, squared her shoulders and marched in the direction of her appointment.

Fortunately, she was a few minutes early. Thirty minutes to be exact. And so she wandered around the outdoor exhibits, peeked at her reflection in the windows of the building to make sure she still looked presentable, and placed one last phone call to a friend to make sure she knew the correct name of the man she needed to ask for at the front desk. Then, 9 minutes before her scheduled appointment, she made her way into the lobby.

After meeting with the HR representative, she met the woman who would be her hiring manager. Charming as Melissa was, she wasn't entirely certain she'd won over her interviewer, but she didn't have too much time to think about that since when the interviewer started talking about the responsibilities of the position, Melissa realized that the position was entirely different than the position she thought she'd been interviewing for. After about an hour, the interviewer passed her off to another manager with whom Melissa would be working with. She liked this one a bit better and was confident that this one liked her better too. Another 20 minutes later, it was finished, and Melissa saw herself out to the elevator.

A bit overwhelmed from trying to understand what on earth she'd just interviewed for, she headed for home. As she stood on the platform waiting for her shiny silver ride back to Pentagon City, she decided to go home, have lunch, fill out some more applications, and watch a few episodes of The Office. Perspective would come later. For now she just needed a sandwich and a nap. They told her they would let her know within the next week whether or not they would like to keep her. Just as she was a block away from her apartment and thinking she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to keep them, a motorcade of about a dozen police on motorbikes, three squad cars, two security-ish SUV's, and one black limo sped down the street.


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