The Interview
佚名 \/ Anonymous
The job of a lifetime, that’s what it was, secretary for the district attorney. I couldn’t wait for my interview. This was the kind of position I’d dreamed of, what all those years of college and entry-level positions were for.
The night before my interview, I spent two hours going through my closet to pick out just the right outfit. What would I say to him? I cuffed up into my pillowy bed and stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. How should I act? Nervous, I shut my eyes and tried to get some rest, but I kept tossing and turning.
Finally, the alarm clock woke me. I tried to open my eyes, but something was wrong. My face felt stiff, strange. My hands flew to my cheeks. “No!” My lips were unable to open all the way. I ran to the bathroom and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, horrified. My face was contorted like a stroke victim’s. My eyes were misaligned. I couldn’t move the right side of my face. I could barely recognize myself. What was happening to me? What nightmare did I wake up into?
My mother came into the room, “What’s wrong?” Her eyes bulged as she withdrew in terror. “What’s happening to me?” I slurred to her. “I’ll take you to the emergency room,” she finally gasped. We were rushed in. The nurse took one look at me and called in a specialist. There, under the blazing white lights, my mother and I waited.
After several hours of tests, the doctor finally explained, “You have Bell’s pal. It is a condition in which your face muscles tighten because of stress. You need to get plenty of sleep, and in a few days your face will return to normal.” “But I have a job interview this afternoon,” I sadly remembered. “I’m sorry,” the doctor said, concerned. “You should reschedule, maybe for later in the week.”
During the long car ride home, all I could think about was how bad it would look to reschedule. Certainly, that would dampen my chances. Nobody reschedules with the distri