The smell of crisply ironed suits and freshly printed brochures was pungent, but not as distinct as the fabulous smiles flashing after a firm handshake.
"Hi. I'm John White. Thanks for waiting in line so patiently," he said after each handshake.
Commence the thinly disguised adulation that poured forth from the poor, nervous soul in a pencil skirt. The line dutifully shifted forward a couple of steps and pretended not to overhear the conversation.
"Do you have a resume?" he inquired, and then upon receiving a sheet that was supposed to encompass the entirety of the person shaking in front of him, he asked, "Tell me about yourself."
Commence the 30-second elevator speech that the soul had practiced in the bathroom mirror the night before. The line restlessly shifted side to side in tune with the pen that he tapped against the resume.
John looked up, interested, when several key words were dropped: "self-taught," "HTML," "co-founded," "website design and development company."
"Digital," he declared, "It sounds like you'd be perfect for digital."
The soul abruptly shut up and timidly nodded her head, even though in the beginning she declared that she was interested in being a creative.
As John rattled off the process of applying for digital, his eyes slid behind and noticed the restlessness of the line snaking out behind and cutting off the poor Social Security woman from the foot traffic. Realizing that this was going to take forever, he looked up and smiled.
"Thank you for your time. Do you have any questions?"
However, John was already dog-earing her resume.
A quick note about this man's system. He either dog-ears your resume--- or doesn't. He either puts it in this pile horizontally--- or this pile vertically. All in front of the people in the line.
He dog-eared the resume and placed it horizontally in the bigger stack. The soul realized her time is up.
"Good luck," he said and gave her a firm handshake.
"Yes." A faint reply. "Good-bye."
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