Preparing for an Interview

In a room by myself, I ask questions and then I answer them. I often start with, “I’m glad you asked me that, Bob.” I try not to say “Well…” and then get cross-eyed and then fall over onto my face. I make eye contact with the hat wrack. I smile.

I exude the kind of confidence which can only be exuded when there is nothing actually at stake. Eyes on the hat wrack. “I’m glad you asked me that, Bob.” Smile. I hold out my hands as if sculpted by Rodin and use metaphors or perhaps an efficient little anecdote that turns out to be a parable for our times.

In a room by myself, I say dumb things and then I say slightly smarter things. I write down the smarter things. When I ask myself the question again, later, at first I only remember the dumb things.

When I ask myself a question that I can’t immediately answer, I stand up and move to the other room. I circle the table, repeating the question and stabbing at answers. “That’s such an important question, Bob…” I finally arrive at a halfway decent angle of approach and return to the other room. I write down the slightly halfway decent angle of approach. Later, all I remember is, “That’s such an important question, Bob.”

When I get tired I sometimes add, “Wait, can I call you Bob?”

Turns out his name is Fred.