The Audition.February 21, 2008 at 6:04 pm | Posted in writing | 11 Comments
Tags: prose, writing
So, before we can give you the job in which you have expressed such great interest, we need to hear in your own words just why you are applying for it. Travelling pianoman in the cocktail bar on the Queen Mary, well lets just say, the competition is strong.
Yeah, well, the three of them just up and left. It was okay for a while, we had the regulars, never spent much, the girls got bored and drifted off to Mamu’s, down the road. Mamu himself didn’t have anything to do with it, it was some corporate bullshit stole the name, but soon after he and Persephone retired to some tiny island near Port Douglas, so I guess the big fella made sure he got his in the end.
They left enough cash in the safe for me to keep it going for a while. I found a stash of pearls left behind a sofa as well. God knows how long they had been there. But you know, I just don’t understand numbers, as long as its more than I need right now that’s as big as I can count, with the inevitable result. Bootsy got Parliament back together with George and went on tour.
And I just thought, wow, cool ride, never really knew what the hell was going on, walked down to the wharf and I saw you advertising so I thought you might now here they went?
Well, we have several other applicants, with degrees and their own pianos. Perhaps you would prefer a job in security?
Well, security, heh? Yeah I reckon I could swing that, one door closes, as they say,
Yes, and we will be relying on you to keep it closed.
Later, I was pulling on the uniform and I thought, hang on, why on earth would anybody put in me charge of guarding anything? Oh well, who knows, not really my problem,