Tuesday 15 April 2008

Alan Sugar I ain't

Honest guv'nor, I didn't mean to have a bit too much to drink at Fi's gorgeous dinner extravaganza last night, but there was champagne and white wine and then red wine, and it kind of just happened without me realising, like getting wrinkles or finishing the entire pot of Skippy peanut butter while watching American Idol, and then suddenly it was nearly midnight and there were eight of us sitting around her dining room table singing Christmas carols and Russian folk songs in harmony, so when I woke up this morning and remembered I had to interview a candidate for a job here, I wasn't sure I was in the optimum state to perform well.

As I had admitted to the nice lady in Human Resources yesterday, my only prior experience of hosting job interviews was in the comforting surroundings of a public house, so the thought of our corporate meeting rooms, complete with leatherbound notepads, matching pencils and expensive artwork, was a little daunting. The lovely HR person gave me a few questions to ask and reminded me to make sure that the candidate was the one doing all the talking - but when it came down to it this morning, it turned out that she didn't need to warn me about that. The reality was, after five seconds in the interview room, I knew that she was The One. Immediately, I descended into a pit of nerves and silence. Dry-mouthed and fidgety, I struggled to think of anything to ask her because I had no doubt she'd be fantastic - and then when she did talk, I forgot to listen to what she'd said. I'd been told to keep my cards close to my chest but I failed miserably. It was like being on a date and having to play it cool but really, deep down, wanting to lead them to the rooftops and shout "I LOVE YOU! We are perfect for each other and if you can't feel it too then you're an insensitive idiot who needs to be sectioned! Never kiss anyone else except me again for the rest of your life! Have my babies! I'll clean your bathroom floor for eternity! I promise never to wear bad loungewear! I'll shave my legs hourly! I'll charm your friends! I'll prepare gourmet food every night but I'll never eat any of it so that I never turn to fat! I'll iron your underwear! I'll admire your beer belly! I'll laugh at your terrible jokes! I'll listen in awe to your mother! I'll never ask you to spend any time with my friends and I'll coo with delight when you change my light bulbs!" etc. etc.

To my eternal credit, I managed to stop myself offering her the job on the spot and threatening to cry if she didn't take it - but I don't think I remotely hid my pleasure/relief to have found someone so capable. If she's got a grain of sense, she'll bargain hard for an immediate pay rise.

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