Oh gosh, today I am going to go for the interview for a post as a receptionist at Novena's Velocity's California Fitness Center. I had a couple interviews before like a year back while I was waiting for my then 'O' level results, and after having work experience, I thought working in itself was way tougher than some short interview. And so after working life was momentarily over just as that of schooling stepped in, I told myself that interviews are really nothing - it's just the interviewer trying to be intimidating and scary just so they can gauge just how much we want the job in the way we handle the situation. And so I thought, intimidate me? Scare me? YOU WISH. blogged at|9:52 AM|
But right now, as I am typing, I can already feel my pulse beating faster than it normally should. I can't stop shaking my legs as I sit here, and I can't get my thoughts straight. Well, I am trying to remind myself about the experiences I had before, and about my theory that interviews are way easier than the job itself, but I still do feel anxious. I guess it's normal?
Well anyways, talking about being tough and all, I did got tough - just a little too tough on my character, that is. My family and I were having dinner a couple days ago at Toa Payoh's Fork and Spoon - it's a really nice place, and of course, Halal. It's almost like a replica of Banquet, except that it has more choices and a nicer ambience, all white and lime-green and yellow and stuff. Yeah but anyways, not to digress too much, my family and I were having a nice dinner together when this Indian couple came to sit beside us on a couple table. Yeah, it's normal, I noticed them, they noticed us, so it's all fine. Nothing is amiss.
But then as a couple minutes passed and the couple have already ordered their stuff, the guy, who's all fat and balding, decided to become an asshole. My family and I were having such a nice dinner together, and I couldn't help but notice the guy looking at our direction all the time. ALL THE TIME, I'm serious. Zilch exaggeration. He kept looking at my dad's coffee, and then at me, and then at my brother's steak, and occasionally at the table as a whole. And this went on for almost TEN MINUTES. My brother sounded to me, and I got even more alerted by it, convinced that I was not 'feeling too much' or in Malay, 'perasan'. And for some reason my defence wall began to build up as much as my anger and irritation did.
Okay, I know we shouldn't be too affected by these kinds of things - there have been many cases where people fought just because one party couldn't stand it when the other party kept staring. But seriously, staring is rude, and people just have to accept it. It never is a nice feeling to be stared at like that, and for the sake of my family, I was enraged as well because apparently, he was staring at them too.
I told myself to relax, to let him go. But after another couple minutes of him still doing it, I blew my top, and told him off, "Excuse me, what are you staring at?" And of course, he looked stunned. OF COURSE, I could have laughed. What a complete loser.
"I wasn't looking at you," was his painfully, painfully lame response, his eyes betraying his conviction. He was starting to look insecure. Aww...
"Sure - but you were looking at the rest of us here." I glared at him. My family was already alerted by my sudden action, and they could do nothing more than just to continue with their food. The gay - I mean, guy - was already pathetically trying to seek solace and support from his girlfriend who needless to say, could do nothing more than give him an expresssion of surprise.
"It is very annoying, do you know that?" I stressed, glaring at him and his already frightened frame, despite his size and bloated tummy. "And it is very rude." I suddenly felt like I was a kindergarten teacher teaching a kid about manners. He didn't even apologize, he got back to his food and from then on, never looked our way again. Ah... how sweet is victory.
Anyways, my whole family expressed their shock towards my action after the couple left. My dad was giving me that smile and saying, "Why'd you do that?" but he'd said that without suggesting how I shouldn't. And my bro went all "I can't believe you did that." My mom only gave me a look and I had to defned myself, "He was the one who started it. I couldn't take it. For your information, this is how I am outside." And my mom laughed, "Wow, 'garang' sey...", garang meaning fierce in Malay.
Well, I'm glad til this day that I gave that fat bastard a piece of my mind. He deserved that - that should teach him to keep his eyes to himself. Pfft.
Alright, now I shall consume my mind in thoughts of the interview. Maybe for once, I should keep that kind of pride in myself so I can get rid of my weaker traits such like anxiety. Huh... not easy, but am gonna try.
Peace --