#1 koni | tomorrow

I slept early last night so that I could wake up early for the interview. Actually, the reason I had to wake up early is that the town center, where the interview is to take place, is quite far from my place and since I have no fare, I have to walk all the way there. I had gone to these interviews a lot, almost two hundred and seventeen of them. So, when I told my mother I was going to another, she wasn't that thrilled. In fact, she stopped giving me fare and packed lunch at interview seven.

I heard my 5:00 am alarm but I slammed that snooze button. I snoozed it like three times again because in my mind it was only like ten minutes or so. Little did I know that my alarm was snoozing for an hour every time I hit that button. I felt a warm sensation from the sun on my cheek as I stretched on my mattress.

Wait, why am I feeling the sun at 6:00 am? Oh no!

I rushed to the bathroom behind my house, actually my brother's. I don't own anything tangible and by that, I mean something of actual value like a house, a cow, a kitchen, an innerwear without holes...I digress. It only hit me on my way there how dusty my shoes were, and how tired my trousers were. Who even irons these days, right? I couldn't return home. The walk in the sunny and hot weather was long and almost unbearable. When I got to the venue, I found the interview midway through. 

Sigh. 

That was very comforting. I went out to get some air and get dried off the sweat.

"Koniii…!”

I recognized that voice, Petro, an unfortunate bozo just like me. We had attended several interviews together till we became friends. We had a lot in common.

"Ah, Petro. I'm not surprised to meet you here brother!" We laughed. 

We shared a little and went back into the waiting room. Soon after, Petro went in.

Once you got into the interview chambers, you left through a different exit and so I did not see Petro again. Shortly after, it was my turn. I arose, made my discolored tie, aligned my Casio Digital watch, checked if my zip was up, and took a long sigh, then knocked on the door.

"Welcome sir, have a seat," a woman, one of the interviewers, said to me. I nodded meekly and took the seat.

"Please tell us your name," the man on the left said.

"Chronic Konelia," they smiled. I'm sure at least one of them knew me from one or two interviews they chaired.

"Is it alright if I just call you Chronic?" The man on the left asked, in his voice a hint of harmless mockery.

"Of course sir," I was getting nervous. You would think that after two hundred and seventeen interviews I would be perfect at this but I wasn't. 

"Mr. Chronic, why do you want this job?" The woman asked after a few icebreaker questions.

"Because I have tarmacked for so long I am on the verge of giving up. This might be the only chance I have at redeeming myself to my family. My siblings think they are better because they work. You know what sirs and madam, the only reason I was on and off campus, was so that I could help fend for them!" I spiraled out to things very irrelevant despite their attempts to get me quiet.

"That was very unprofessional, young man," the man on the right said. The woman turned to her colleagues and after a few consultations she looked at me and spoke,

"Despite your very unnecessary outburst, we still think we should hear you out. So Mr. Chronic, what makes you think you are qualified for this job?"

"Sincerely? Nothing! All I know is that I'm a desperate man and desperate men do everything possible!"

"Mr. Chronic, what do you think the job you are applying for in this firm entails?"

"You mean truthfully?"

"Yes…"

"I don't know, I just saw the poster that you were hiring and I decided to try my luck."

"Well thank you Chronic, we will keep in touch." I left. Outside, I filled out some forms and then walked out slowly.

Then the realization hit me, I had done the poorest interview ever. Eh who cares, I was not even hopeful I would land that job in the first place.