The Job Interview

Last week I had an interview for a job at a bank. I was so nervous that I couldn't eat breakfast. I wore my only white shirt and my brother's shoes, which were a little big. I arrived thirty minutes early and waited on a hard chair.

The interviewer was a young man with glasses. He asked why I wanted the job, what I was good at, and where I saw myself in five years. I didn't know how to answer the last one. I said, "Here, but with a better desk." He laughed, which I hoped was good.

Three days later they called me. I got the job. I start on Monday. My mother cried, my brother wants his shoes back, and I've bought a second white shirt. I still don't know where I'll be in five years, but I know where I'll be on Monday.