Unemployable.
I had recently left college and had been offered a second interview at GCHQ. The first interview had gone really well (obviously) and I had made quite an impact with a rather nice young lady who worked as receptionist. We had chatted while I was waiting and on leaving she had wished me all the best and said she hoped I got the position.

Second interview day arrives, I am in a sharp looking suit, new shoes shining, hair recently trimmed and feeling positive, confident and ready to land a job (I had bummed around for a long time and needed to join the real world) and maybe land a date with the aforementioned girl. So I arrive, park the car and start trudging across the frosty pathway.

As I near the entrance to the department I see in a large window the lady I was interviewed by and the object of my desire plus a few of her colleagues. They notice me and wave to which I attempt to casually turn, wave and keep balance on the icy ground with my new leather soles.

I failed miserably.

I did one of those comical Scooby Doo 'run on the spot' actions before landing face first onto the concrete. I looked up to see their shocked faces (and some of the blokes pissing themselves laughing - twats) as blood started to pour from my forehead all over my face, shirt and suit. Plus I had somehow ripped my trousers across the pocket to my arse and my bum was peeking out.

I got up, dusted myself down and with the tiny fraction of dignity that I thought I could muster, waved, walked back to the car and went home. They called a number of times to see how I was and to reschedule but I never replied.
(Tugnut I got them all..., Thu 4 Dec 2008, 13:03, Reply)