“A file containing each candidate’s questions will be distributed now,” she paused and motioned some staffs to share the files, “and you’re required to answer the questions in the spaces provided. You will study the role play questions carefully and act out your solutions when the time comes, as you would in a real life situation.”
She finished with the instructions and asked if anyone has questions or requires some clarifications. Taking cue that all was well from the silence that followed, she stepped out in her rocking stilettos.
It was an assessment day as a part of the recruitment process of a big service firm. In a nice suit and a well placed fitting spectacles that complemented the bonhomie exuding smile on my clean-shaven face, I sat in the reception amidst a number of other candidates, scribbling out answers and mulling over my role playing questions.
A pitch of just a minute to convince a potential customer to save her huge fund in our firm didn’t seem like a very hard first role to play, considering that I had ample time to contemplate. I came up with an idea and reiterated it severally till it stuck. Many lips around me ventured in similar silent movements. Everyone except the young man beside me whose mouth moved and hummed like that of an herbalist in an incantation spree.
A familiar pair of eyes settled on me as I entered the cosy office space where my first role playing assessment was to commence. Young, pretty. . . and with everything that screamed ‘hawwtt’. She was the ma’am from some moments earlier. I didn’t fall for the usual seat trick; she didn’t offer it either. She went through my file, did some blinking and nodding before she relaxed and looked up at me.
“You’re welcome! I’m Mabel, and your session starts now. Make your pitch!”
She meant business. I like business.
I spilled out my recital on quality service, the need for her to get value for her hard-earned money, the consideration of her convenience in the overall scheme of things, and rested my case seconds to the one minute stop.
She acted the rich potential customer and was pretty good at it.
“That’s what you all say!” she objected. “There are several firms out there that offer the same packages as you do. What’s to make me pick you and not anyone of them?”
“True!” I feigned sudden realisation, “You’re right on the point.”
I moved closer to her and explained with rich gesticulations.
“Ours is quality solid servicing that runs deep; flexible, stimulating and satisfying the core of your very needs.” I motioned my right palm downwards, subconsciously pointing at an imaginary core.
A flicker appeared in her eyes briefly and I took it as a cue that I was making sense. Perhaps I wasn’t. I added a rejoinder without delay.
“Everyone wants service packages and experiences that are convenient, exhilarating and appropriately matching their expectation; like a long round peg in a deep round hole. Fitting. Ma’am, it’ll take your breath away and keep you wanting more.”
She went from a flicker to raised brows over eyes that stared deeply into my very being like I’ve hinted her the location of a treasure stash. I quickly took advantage of the moment. Confidence burgeoning.
“Yes. We are that good. Our impeccable reputation and testimonies from customers we service steadily over the years can attest to this.”
Like a runway judge assessing a well trimmed sizzling hot six-packs-possessing male model, her gaze ran me over with skilled subtlety.
“Hmmmmn. Okay. . . This officially ends the proper role playing session. Please sit.”
She smiled and paused at the last word, motioning me to the seat across her. I gave a warm smile as well and she continued.
“You appear to know stuffs about erm—”
A moment passed before she got a grip of the word.
“. . . about servicing.”
She scrutinised my expression for some non-verbal cues I think. I pulled up the right façade for the moment.
“Can you share with me how you honed the skill? Some post-graduate experience or what?”
“Honed” and “post-graduate experience” up-notched a little in a drawl I would call titillating if not for the official ambience and my potential job on the line. I answered her and several questions followed. They somehow hovered around servicing, with keywords like deep, strong, core, quality, flexible, satisfaction, and the shebang taking the center stage. The rest of my session with her was smooth, and the feeling helped me in the other stages. I had a good start.
My journey home was spent reminiscing the past few hours of the day. I flashed to my speech on quality service and the loads of conviction, and I kept asking myself, “Where did all that come from?” Really, interview teaches one to be a good liar and a sly fox, among other things. I stifled a mirth at the thought of the second assessor trying to intimidate me, oblivious of the “battery full” on my confidence-o-meter. Who intimidates a graduate with five (5) months of requisite no-experience anyway?
Later that night I got a text from a strange number. A concise content with some inviting words about servicing, and details of an appointment somewhere in town. It ended with a name: Mabel.
Then it dawned on me. Perhaps I had used lots of “servicing” in convincing my role client and she had given it a meaning of her choice: a servicing that involves two opposite sexes, coital cravings, and a whole lot of potentials going kinetic.
I’m not at liberty to disclose my employment status and details, but she says my servicing is thrilling and indispensable. It’s been two months of active duty. I fear I’ll expire, but she never tires. She never will.
My boss. My belle. My bane.
I am @jossef69 on twitter.
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