It was a busy morning and Esther was beginning to loose her patience. The traffic jam on the streets of Los Angeles took her by surprise. Things like these were exactly why she took it upon herself to do a quick study of the city before moving in. Even though her stay depended on the job she is apparently late for its interview, she was determined to get a job, a good job in this city.

She rushed into the reception of David Scott’s publishing firm, trying her best to maintain her composure. She was late! The tale-tale signs were everywhere. She sighted the receptionist whose facial expression dared her to come close. Managing a smile, she walked up to her amidst all odds. “Excuse me miss, please am here for the interview. Who do I meet?” The receptionist gave her a long piercing look and continued arranging the files on her table.

“I believe you hear me. Who do I meet and where is the Manager’s office?” Her voice was rising. “Madam, the interview was for 8am. Is this 8am by your time? I don’t see why you would come 2 hours late only to disturb the peace of everyone here!” The interview has ended, please, you may leave!

The duo hadn’t known just how much of a scream their argument had been until the security man badged into the reception to find out what the exchange of words was about.

“Can I at least see the manger?” Esther was now begging.

“Like I said, the interview is over. You either leave voluntarily or I have the security help you out”

Esther was pissed at how rude and bossy the receptionist was but held her peace. She was now determined to get the job at this publication firm, if not for anything, to show the receptionist that she has more value and to also teach her to be soft spoken- of course, the hard way.

As Esther sat in her car strategically parked to visualize whoever goes in and out of the firm, she noticed a young lady, about her age, sulking at the other side of the firm. Judging by how formally she was dressed, she could tell that she either worked or wanted to work at the firm. Whichever way, they had something in common! She immediately rushed to her while making sure she doesn’t loose sight of the main door of the firm.

“Hi, am Esther. Nice to meet you” she said, stretching her hand for a handshake. As expected, the lady neither said a word nor shook her hand. “I’m guessing you are here for the interview. Well, that makes the too of us. As a matter of fact, its my dream job, one I just lost because I came late” Esther was now sounding pitiful.

The lady chuckled. Is that what the rude receptionist told you? You think you lost because you couldn’t make it earlier? I hate to break it to you but something other than what the eyes can see is definitely going on here. How else can one explain a receptionist, rude to the core, not only acting as the boss of a firm she works for but also denying applicants the right to a proper interview?

Esther was confused. She was yet to understand a word of what this lady was talking about. “Do you mind breaking this down because am yet to understand what you are saying” she managed to say.

Alright, the lady took a deep breath. I was the first to arrive for this interview. It had been my dream job since highschool and I didn’t want to mess it up for myself. As at the time the receptionist arrived, we were already about four or five waiting. We all saw the manager head upstairs. He mumbled something about the new C.E.O not being around so he would have to take care of the interview himself and the receptionist smiled.

We all thought that meant well for us, little did we know that we were headed for doom! A few minutes later, the receptionist asked us to step out, only to enter when we hear our names. I was the first she called in. The question was and I quote “tell me, why should I take you when there are lots of prettier, smarter and much more talented young people out there? What even makes you think you are qualified for this job!”

At first I smiled, thinking it was only but a side question to keep the conversation going before the manager is ready for me. I told her that the answer was simple: David Scott’s publishing firm was among the best in Los Angeles. Everyone wanted to work there. She smiled and asked me to wait outside.

She did same for every other applicant. We all waited, thinking the manager was busy. We only realized that our chance at ever working in this magnificent firm had been ruined when the security asked us to vacate the premises. We, of course protested for a while, after which we gave up, embracing our fate.

Esther was shocked. “You mean to tell me that all these happened within the 2hours I was stock in traffic?” “Who is that man making his way out of the firm?” Esther asked, the moment she saw the middle aged man in a cooperate attire with his right hand cluntched to a briefcase.

“That’s the manager” the young lady managed to reply. She was both physically and emotionally drained. The perfect picture she had painted in her mind over the years had just been dissembled. Esther smiled. The moment she had been waiting for. “Let’s go” she dragged her new friend by the hand and made to meet up with the man before he entered his car.

“Good day sir” they chorused, attracting the man’s attention. “how may I help you?” He asked, his impatience obvious. “My name is Esther, Esther Robins and here is my friend, miss…

“Clara. Clara Evans” the lady chipped in.

Right. We are among the applicants that your receptionist interviewed this morning. We are simply here to tell you that its bad enough that you let your receptionist, your obnoxious and terribly rude receptionist interview the best set of applicants you will ever get but it will be worst if you let this same shadow minded receptionist prevent your firm, the firm you and lots of other workers have put so much effort into from seeing the light of the day! Esther concluded without batting an eyelid.

Clara was scared at how bold she was. One thing was certain, it could go either way: give them a job or land them into more missery. Esther didn’t seem to care much but Clara was scared to her bones. She was literarilly shaking.