Watching The Numbers Through A Smelly Gaseous Cloud.

You are woken up by the sound of ringing.  In a confused, sleepy state, you reach over to knock your alarm off, only to discover, that you've actually smashed to bits, your bedside phone.  You look over at your alarm clock and realise it's only three in the morning.  You smile with relief knowing that your alarm wont be going off for another five hours. You drift back off to sleep.......

Suddenly, you wake up.  Looking over at your alarm, it dawns on you that it's nine in the morning and during the moment you smashed to bits, your bedside phone, you  inadvertently knocked off your alarm. This leaves you in a state of panic.  Just ten minutes to shit, shave, shower and shampoo.  And five minutes to put on your fancy clothes in readiness for your interview for that dream job.

It's now just gone a quarter past nine and your interview is for half past ten. You rush out of the house.  Quickly,  you guzzle down a coffee and munch on a stale chocolate doughnut.  As you race to your car, you slip on something.  No time to inspect what caused you to slip. Time to start the car and get the heck to downtown for the interview in that very tall building.

The car starts up. Okay the car started up after several attempts.  That was when you figured out that even though the house key sorta' fits in the ignition, the car key would work much better.  Off you go.  Every traffic light is on red.  And every other street has roadworks.  Somehow, you get to the very tall building where you are having the interview for that dream job, at quarter past ten in the morning.  Fifteen minutes to spare and to gain your composure.

You hastily park up in the underground parking lot.  You run over to the elevator and this one guy gets in with you.  You head to the ground floor.  Just long enough for this guy to let rip with a massive fart that leaves a smelly gaseous cloud in the elevator.  He gets out of the elevator on the ground floor and mumbles something about eating that curry the night before was a big mistake.

One well dressed gentleman gets into the elevator.  He looks over at you in a disgusting manner.  You both stand in the stench filled elevator and watch the numbers go by...ever so slowly......... blurred by the smelly gaseous cloud...."Two.....Three...Four.....Twenty Five...Sixty..."  And the guy is still with you in the elevator when you reach your destination, the seventieth floor.  You both get out and he heads to another door.  Time to introduce yourself at reception and wait for the interview for that dream job.

Nervously looking around, you note what a nice place it is, complete with plush, cream coloured carpets that seemed very new.  Finally, a few minutes gone half past ten, you are summoned into the interviewer's office.  The receptionist screams at you!  To your horror, you now know what you slipped in on the way to your car earlier that morning.  Yes indeed, you have trampled dog crap into the plush, cream coloured carpets.  No time to do anything about it.   You knock on the interviewer's door.  Upon entering, you immediately recognise the interviewer as the well dressed gentleman from the elevator.
The interview for the dream job doesn't seem to go too well.  Yes, that dream job of being the publicity officer for a personal hygiene company.

When you get home, you check the messages on your other landline phone that still works.  One is in regards to the interview stating that you were unsuccessful but they will keep you on their records.  The other message was from your hippy cousin who moved to California to find herself.  This would be the same cousin who had no concept of time zones and when she phoned at three in the morning, she thought it must be seven in the evening.  Her message was that she wished you the very best with your interview....