Tuesday 9 April 2013

Everything


I was sitting in the reception, trying not to let my nerves show, but my left leg had decided to betray me by spontaneously pogo-ing up and down of its own accord. I clamped both my hands on top of it to minimal effect.

I don't think it helped that the plush red chairs in reception seemed disproportionatly low, meaning my pretty average limbs were thrust into all manner of awkward shapes, knees up to chest height and elbows unable to find a decent perch.

In the receptionist's glasses I could the see the reflection of his Facebook page, which he scrolled through idly, fielding the odd call.

Eventually a side door opened and an immaculate and confident man strolled towards me. The perfect lines of his suit instantly made me feel like I was dressed in clothes that I'd found in a bush on my way here, rather than my best outfit, which is what it was. He shook my hand firmly and introduced himself as Joshua, leading me past reception, through the door by which he'd entered and down a corridor towards a meeting room.

Here I was greeted by Anna and Patrice, both seated behind a small circular desk. Joshua joined them and I was positioned opposite.

We talked about my education to begin with, I'd recently graduated from University, I'd got a first in International Politics and this intern position would mean a great deal to my career. Work experience-wise I'd had some temp jobs in a couple of offices, but nothing substantial. I'd primarily spent my Summers working in shops to make some money, I wasn't keen on the idea of being too reliant on my student loan and had aimed, though rather unsuccessfully, to leave it as a back-up throughout my entire time at Uni.

I asked some questions about the day-to-day things I might have to do in the office, the kind of people I would be working with, what training there would be, little things though like the telephones, computers and such like. They smiled and assured me that it would be very intensive with plenty of room to stretch and grow.

Then they turned to a screen on the wall.

'We just want to run a few things by you, if that's ok?' Patrice asked.

I nodded, 'That's fine.'

'On October 4th you sent a tweet to @muckypup saying, "You love it you bender."'

'Um...' It was undeniable, they'd brought the thing up on a screen right there. 'Yes, I, er, I did... that was October 4th five years ago, I was seventeen.'

'Nevertheless, we don't think this kind of language or attitude is suitable for the workplace.'

'Well, no, neither do I...'

Joshua held up his finger, it had the effect of somehow immediately silencing me, 'You wrote a poem in school, not -' he turned to his colleagues and they shared a little laugh '-as part of the class, but in break time. It was called Mr. Marks Sucks Animal Cocks.'

The poem appeared on screen, the very thing, in my scrawled fourteen year old handwriting.

'He'd given me a detention and...'

'Do you really think slander was a justified reaction?'

'It wasn't slander, it was...'

Anna placed her notepad down with authority, again this distraction cut my sentence short.

'I understand you might think these aren't recent events, but we were alarmed to see these, and we have a reputation to preserve at this bank. So, we looked into it, and at 10.30pm last Friday we witnessed this.'

On the screen footage appeared of me, a little drunk, in my kitchen opening a bottle of coke to pour into my Jack Daniels and the bubbles erupted, spluttering all over me, to which I exclaimed; 'Oh, gay!'

'Mr. Thomas,' Anna removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose with exaggerated anguish, 'someone with your homophobic attitudes should not, could not, work for this company.'

'My what?'

'Your homophobic attitudes. Joshua did some more research, and at least fifteen of your social network friends have made similar remarks, some have commited racial slurs, sexist comments, both misogynistic and misandrist exclamations. Clearly you're unfit for the business world.'

'But, I... My... My brother's gay, I'm not... My best friend Harriet, she's gay... I mean...' I was exasperated, bamboozled and exclaimed irrationally; 'She's gay and black!'

'And you think any of that makes it allright? That it covers you?' Joshua tutted to himself, scribbled something on his notepad. 'You know the way out Mr. Thomas, but thankyou for coming in today, it was useful.'

I got up, walked to the door, the handle gave me an electric shock, I swore and left.

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