I'm running

Maybe more like jogging. As fast as my faux dress shoes can carry me. They're pretty heavy and make a weird thumping sound as I go. I'm running, in my only suit and tie, only pair of black dress pants, only pair of dark socks that don't quite match. Running, because the interview I was trying to get to was supposed to start a minute ago, and I had 10 blocks to go.

I'm late, you say? Well, normally it takes less than an hour to get downtown. I'd gotten up at 7 you see, showered and all that, got all dressed up, got on the subway by 8. No problem. Until the subway stops at some forsaken street near Columbia. Sitting there, because the train ahead of us was stopped. Minutes go by. A couple arguing silently by the door. She slaps him and walks away. The guy, chases after her. Grabs her by the shoulder and pushes her into the wall. Everyone stays still, the person next to me typing on her blackberry like nothing happened. I stand up. Breifly considering to jump on the guy if he starts wailing on her. Luckily it doesn't happen. But I'm standing there. I guess it was rude to stare.

10 minutes later and I'm going to be late for this interview. The train pulls away. I'm doomed.

This isn't the worst thing that can happen.

The love of my life that I don't have could slap me and walk away. If I had a love of my life.

This isn't the worst thing that can happen. I could be doing this every day.

The interview starts, the guy is kind of quick and witty, it's kind of odd. He starts by asking about myself, things like that.

"Do you go out drinking a lot?"

It's a serious question he just asked. I think I heard it, but the only thing I can think of is Admiral Ackbar yelling "IT'S A TRAP!" in my ear. I answer truthfully, only occasionally, like once a week. Apparently he'd rather me go out every night. He went out last night, it was a wild night.

Cool.

The interview ends. It wasn't great. At all.

It's not the worst thing that could happen. The worst thing that could happen is still on it's way.