The Impromptu Job Interview

As I stepped through the revolving door of the First National Bank Tower building, the wind slapped my scarf back over my face and my eyes clouded immediately from the bitter gust. I grabbed at my coat to protect my exposed skin and as I precariously began my decent down the steep steps to the bus stop at the Marietta and Forsyth Street intersection of Five-Points in downtown Atlanta. This was my new normal route, now my daily routine.

I had snagged my first desk job that would one day launch me to my affluent corporate dream job. Obviously, I had achieved one of my great aspirations as noted in the exuberance in my stride. I pulled my long shoulder strapped handbag close to my side and reached my hand in my coat pocket to confirm my ticket was still there. My heels clicked on the concrete as I strolled confidently towards my stop.

My mind danced around, a million miles away, as I considered my plans for dinner and my options for the rest of the evening, when I heard her voice call in my direction. “Do you work here?” she asked. Not recognizing her, I looked around to see if she was possibly addressing someone else. I turned back to see if maybe she was speaking to someone behind me. But there was no one there.Turning to face her again I wondered if she might be someone from my new job that may have recognized me but that I might only know by face. But seeing her closely I had no recollection of her face.

Immediately my defenses perked as I considered the possibility that she may be a con artist or have some devious intention to rob or attack me. I pulled back to put a little distance between us and replied hesitantly, “yes, I work here”, I said as I looked back to the building I’d just exited. Still cautious about providing too much information and uncomfortable about her reason for such questioning I hesitated to say more.
But she pushed on, “Is this a good place to work?”
Now, what kind of question is that? I wasn’t sure how to answer her so I just responded with a simple, “yeah?...”

I gave a politely closing (fake) smile and started to pull away to return to my zone when she asked another question. “Do you do well?” Now, that really caught me off-guard. “Why was she asking that, was she trying to see if she could get a job here too”, I thought. Again I hesitated and answered, “I do ok.” Was she able to see through my skeptical façade? I didn’t want her to know I had just started my job and was a rookie with the stock exchange and had not yet reached my potential? Was it obvious that I was just a simple a file clerk? I tried to conceal my embarrassment. “I really enjoy it”, I said as I definitely lifted my chin but wavering that she might consider otherwise.

Then she landed the final question in our impromptu interview. “So, how much do you make?”
That was it. Now she had pushed a little too far, that was personal and I thought unfair and why would she ask something so forward when she didn’t even know me? She noticed that I was obviously taken aback (as I stood with my mouth hanging open) she restated, “about how much do you make an evening?”

Did you hear it, the whistle blow? The sounds around me blurred and I could hardly catch my breath. I tilted my head and looked her directly in the face. Then I caught myself looking a little closer at her short dress (if you want to call it that), her spiked heels, her tussled, loudly multicolored, spiked hair and her lack of covering…just a thin scarf. Had I been that raw, that inexperienced, that I missed the neon sign right in front of me? She was a street-walker, a prostitute, …

With embarrassment and a total loss for words, I responded, I work here at a stock exchange. She quickly replied as she belly-laughed, “me too.” Before she could take another step, I stepped forward a bit and said curtly, “I work in this building.” Then I turned quickly and walked as fast as I could in my Stiletto heels to the other end of Forsyth almost to Alabama Street before I turned back to see if she had followed me or if anyone had noticed me talking to her.

I was flustered and disgusted that she had taken me to be one of her competitors and that she would even consider that I, an obvious Christian woman, would be mistaken for someone like her. If I (a black woman) could have turned red I would have. When I finally stopped I realized I was standing at a store front with a wide window that showed my reflection. I scanned my surroundings to see if anyone noticed and begin to examine myself very closely. Did I really look like a prostitute or act like a prostitute? I checked my face and my clothes then quickly pulled my coat closed tightly and ran to the nearest bus, not aware which direction it would take me. I just had to get away.

Who do I reflect? Do others see Jesus or someone or something else?

That day, I learned a lesson that has stuck with me even to this moment. I should always reflect my Father's image. God. If I am His then I should always resemble Him, outwardly and inwardly, not trying to keep up with the world’s view of what pleases. That was one Impromptu interview that I would never forget and I will share with other girls that they would learn from my textbook of mistakes and not from their own experience.