333 That Paint -

Read Time 3 mins

That first day I met young Embla. Job interview. She was punctual and polite with tidy grammar, my 3 major specifications.

I had already mentioned these to her during the phone call we shared arranging the interview date and time and honestly I wasn’t so sure, at this moment, she would pass even this basic test.

Whilst I was communicating these simple duties of the vacancy, she seemed overly concerned about the height of her grandparents. I wasn’t sure of the relevance, yet I was curious as to how this may benefit me as an employer.

Eventually I had that light bulb moment of understanding and Embla became clearer to me. She had been discussing an anxiety that her tiny grandma was in fact a very tall grandma.

I was able to correct her and when she arrived for the interview all her documents were in order with tidy grammar.

So back to the interview day. We sat face to face and I felt there was something out of balance about her. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I was drawn to this beacon of bright red lipstick. Glowing like the heart centre of her young face.

I mean it was bright red, like a red which couldn’t get any brighter. And it didn’t really fit with her bright green outfit, like a green which couldn’t get any brighter.

Still that’s OK. It makes no difference to me, I have no uniform expectations or personal fashion sense. Maybe it’s a statement to dress this way, maybe it’s necessity. It’s not relevant to me.

However neither matched the bright blue eyeshadow and the, well kind of, bright purple on her cheeks.

And the red beret.

Look, I am vanilla with dress sense but I fully understand my polar opposite, that real people in the real world like to make an effort on big days.
I was never going to mention this to Embla, she was here for a basic juniors office job not to Feng Shui the building. Probably just as well.

‘Its my make up isn’t it’ she stated matter of fact yet frown-less. Maybe not wanting to crack the paint?

This was one of those moments I felt the need to practise what I preach and take a deep breath before speaking.

How do I answer that without being inappropriate? Every word a man says seems to be inappropriate in many ways, these days.

‘Make up?’ I asked, ‘what is make up?’

‘It’s the first time I have done it’ she laughed. It was a great laugh. The kind of laugh-noise you make when you don’t give a f*!k anyway.

I make a note. This was definitely a room full of first time moments. It was also the first time I had interviewed anyone for an office job.

It was also the first time I had decided to wear a bow tie. It was the first time I had tied a bow tie.

I should have practised first and noted this on the interview sheet, becoming more and more conscious of the wonky bow tie.

Now. I didn’t want any of my decisions to be swayed by the fact I had bow tie issues which were hampering me. That I was distracted by an odd attire urge.

But on the other hand, it was a plus point for the moment. We both, Embla and I, had a first thing in common.

‘It’s my first time wearing a bow tie’ I replied.

‘You would never know’ she said. I swear she was laughing inside that brightly coloured face.

‘Ditto’ I sighed.

‘I didn’t have a mirror’ she continued, ‘It’s all guesswork’ she motioned with her hand circling her face.

‘Ditto’ I replied miming tight strangulation across the bow tie, whilst mentally noting a further commonality and raising my class cup of coffee.

‘I missed my lips didn’t I?’ she stated, making me realise that was the unbalanced look on her face, the make up. This and the the unmatching colours and chunks and blobs of paint.

‘Ditto’ I replied, as the coffee cup hit my chin and the espresso soaked my awkward looking bow tie.

That’s when I knew I could trust this soul with my life and merrily ticked every box on the interview sheet, nodding assuredly at the obvious (to me) potential and broad minded curiosity which would serve business and her development well.

I did add a 7 words appendage to the bottom of the glowing assessment.

‘Probably should hire an office cleaner too’

She started the next day. We would become a ferocious subway souls partnership. She never wore make up again after that interview. I never wore a bow tie again after that interview.

Well, I slept in the bow tie that night because the knot had tightened so intensely I couldn’t undo and remove it. The next morning, Embla carved it off with a letter opener, her first job in her new office role. Her second task, she accompanied me to the hospital with letter opener throat stab wounds.

It’s as if we were identical behavioural twins discovering each other after being separated at birth. Except for the 30 year age difference. That’s just semantics and being fictional erases many of those discrepancies.

Still the subway journey back to the office allowed us time to bond and importantly gave me the chance to tell the story of how I became the master of the blue door 333 That Street.