Interviewer: Hello? I said come in like five times now…are you deaf or something?
I enter the interview room very slowly and carefully, like a very experienced serial killer.
Me: My profuse apologies, maim. I’m used to being screamed at. I have daddy issues, thank God I have a deaf mother.
Interviewer: Sit down.
I literally dig my fingers into my ear balls, like a broke gold miner. I scratch my eyes looking for the chair.
Interviewer: What’s wrong with your eyes? Did you forget your spectacles at home?
Me: I don’t wear spectacles, my eyes work so well because they are so big. They look like a dozen Asian eyes put together.
Interviewer: Are you saying you are smarter than Asians?
I approach the desk or something that looks like a vast valley made of wood. I am yet to locate the chair.
Me: I’m not smart.
I hear loud scoffs from the other side. I can hear one over exaggerated loud female scoff that sounds like a sick horse’s whimper. I finally locate the chair and sit down quickly.
Interviewer: I’m not wasting time. On the hobbies section, you said you are a racist. We are all interested in knowing the level of the audacity that propelled you to use this word in painting your CV?
I am very genuinely confused.
Me: One of my past time activities includes drag racing. I race cars. I’m a racist. Hence…racist.
Interviewer: I,see.
The interviewer writes down something.
Interviwer: You also said you are into pot dealing?
I chuckle awkwardly and nervously, like a drunk burglar in someone’s home.
Me: Yes, I dabble in potato deals. I sell potatoes.
Interviwer: In the personal qualities section, you wrote creative and innovative. Care to elaborate further on that, Vincent…I won’t even bother mastering your long surname.
My surname is as long as a poop trail on the floor that a centipede made, I sympathise with the interviewer.
Me: Certainly. I babysit at times…so growing up I babysat a lot for my in laws. They had a three year old daughter, and I was four years older than her.
Me: When she would start throwing a tantrum on account of missing her parents, I would swing her around a nearby pole till the dizziness passed her out.
Interviewer: Wow.
Me: I know,right? If you have people who babysit your children for you, that’s how they make them go to sleep. Your children are not their children, theirs are probably eating mud in a cattle kraal in the countryside.
Groaning silence.
Me: On the creative part, by swinging her around a pole, I introduced her to pole dancing at a young age. Now, she’s a sought after nineteen year old pole dancer at the downtown night clubs. If you follow her on Instagram, she has just posted a picture with Zodwa Wabantu, her South African dancing mentor.
Interviewer: Get out.
End Of Internship Interview.
Muddy Gags 