The Office Pony

My daughter picked me up in a town familiar. We were both going to an interview at the same place.  I had a job (maybe she did as well) but we were looking for something new.  In the car sat my mother.  Why she’d come along I hadn’t a clue.

It was late and I had already worked a long day.  I was thankful to have a driver as cities weren’t my thing. We had a two-hour drive and had little time to spare to make it by 6:30.  All the way my daughter and I chatted about how we were going to approach our interviews while my mother sat in silence.  It wasn’t as if she had nothing to say, but she had no ability to speak.

When we arrived at the address provided my daughter and I opted to walk into the firm together. This was an expanding law practice of some sort and there was more than one position up for grabs. Strangely, neither of us had any education or experience in the field, but both had randomly been enticed by the same advertisement.

As we walked in the door I suddenly realized I was severely under-dressed for the occasion.  I was wearing shorts– rag tag shorts!  Thankfully the man inside advised he would see my daughter first.  Embarrassed, I back out and went to the car where I was sure I had a skirt into which I could change.

After an hour or so my baby exited.  She said “It went well” as she jumped in the car.  Now it was my turn.

Entering the building I was immediately greeted by a large, diverse crowd who seemed very glad to see me.  Everyone had drinks and several of the men were smoking cigars.  The people, all good-looking, were lounging on overstuffed chairs and sofas. I felt incredibly out-of-place.  Glancing down I noticed that while I had managed to wrangle on a skirt, my shoes were not only inappropriate, they were miss-matched.  On my right foot a sandal; on my left a clodhopper covered with drips of paint.

Since there was no place to sit, I took a place on the floor and tucked my legs under my rear– Japanese style, as I was accustomed.  In this way, I thought, I could hide my fashion faux pas.  No one offered me a chair.

As I sat and watched the people mill about a-la 1970’s office party style, I began to wonder if I would ever be interviewed.  Several minutes in the room was called to order and I was introduced.  This was followed by a question of sorts.

“I see by your resume that you speak Japanese.”

I acknowledged I did or that I used to but rarely used the skill in my curreent work.

“Very good, very good” the female interviewer responded.

Then, as quickly as the crowd had turned their attention towards me they resumed their chitchatting. Perplexed to say the least, I began to think if this was all some kind of strange social test.  If it was I had no clue what I should do.  After some time I spoke up.

“If you want me to talk I can talk forever trust me.” The crowed laughter but gave no indication. As I sat there a cat came strolling by.

“I’m really glad you have an office cat.  I like cats” I said.

A lovely woman leaned over.  “Well if you like the cat you’ll really like our pony.  Do you want to see it?”

Desperate to get out of the room I followed the woman who sauntered to a long hall where she opened several doors, peered in quickly and closed. Finally after half a dozen she exclaimed she’d found the horse.

“He disappears on us…always a challenge to find” she said quietly before flinging the door wide open.  “Here you are my boy!”

Laying on a Persian rug in the middle of the floor was fat grey pony with outstretched legs that were resting up on a sofa.  The pose was odd to say the least.

My guide went over to presumably to pet the horse but the fat beast appeared to turn and nip.

“Okay okay.  Not in the mood I see” my guide dismissed.

As we exited the room I looked back and noticed the pony was no longer on the floor.  In fact, I couldn’t see the animal at all.  Noticing my expression the woman interjected, “Don’t worry.  She likes to hide.”

Re entering the front room the classy loungers were still going about their business, whatever that was, and I began to wonder why I’d even bothered applying.  I slipped out.

“How many people were in that office?” I asked my daughter.

“Just one.” She answered. “Why?”

“Just checking. I don’t think it’s the right fit for me.  I’ll stick it out where I’m at.”

As long as they’ll keep me I thought.




2 thoughts on “The Office Pony

    • Oh it didn’t happen. I normally wouldn’t write out a dream/nightmare but this one seemed to have a message of some sort.

      I am a quirky communicator and I am inconsistent with my image. After my early days as Japanese housewife I had to find my voice again and redefine. There are still elements of every period of my life within me and I have to manage them (or not). Thus sometimes I’m really put together and other times (for days at a time) I am a funky old lady. Add to this my speaking manners and most often lack thereof.

      Oh yes, and I do imagine I’m seeing, feeling things. As a philosophy graduate I question so much before me. My daughter is much more business so she would handle a public situation much better. My mother was strategic in a low-brow way. She would not have much input on an interview as she never worked in a real workplace.

      I think I need to stay in my element which is quite loose! My job now requires everything I have to be able to play “normal” (which given my rigid Japanese past makes me a trick office pony!)


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