FN Blog - Seven heads are better than one!

Fresh out of college, I had a job interview lined up. My sched for the day was simple enough: I would set off for my interview first thing in the morning; factoring in a test or two, that would take half a day at most, so I could meet H for lunch and spend some quality time with him.

By noon, it looked like all my plans were going to go pfffft. Apparently, the company, in a Highlander-esque move, intended to whittle down all the applicants ‘til they found The One at the end of the day. I should have been thankful that I was still in the slowly shrinking group as the day progressed, but it was simply overshadowed by stress.

First of all, as much as I’m a fan of spontaneity (road trip tomorrow? Let’s do it!), I find it incredibly inconvenient when I’ve got a schedule to keep, especially when other people are involved. I hate making people wait, because I know what it’s like when people make me wait (anything over half an hour with nary a text message is just inconsiderate, don’t you think?). Second, I anticipated a cranky H when I got to the mall. Not that he had set a precedent, but the men in my life have been an impatient lot. My dad, for one, is someone you do not keep waiting. Do it once and you’ll learn never to do it again. And my ex, a product of military breeding, would tsk-tsk at me when it took me too long (like five minutes too long) to get ready. I didn’t want to have to go through the same thing with H, didn’t want to see the same look of disapproval on his face.

Third, the more I learned about the job, the less I wanted it. But it would have been so unprofessional to leave without seeing the whole thing through. It was an exhausting day of tests, interviews, and waiting, waiting, waiting, not knowing when the next interviewer was going to be free. Not only did I not like the nature of the job, but I also didn’t appreciate how inefficient the company seemed. To make matters worse, my phone had died, so I couldn’t really contact H—or anyone else for that matter.

And what do you know? At the end of the day, I got the job. (But turned it down later on, after thinking about it and talking about it with the people that mattered.) So I wasted a whole day for nothing. By the time I got to the mall, the sun had set and H had been waiting for me by himself for a grand total of six hours. I expected him to be in the Foulest Mood Ever—the way I would have been if it were the other way around. (I don’t know why I expected him to be there at all. Anyone else would’ve left after the first or second hour.) Even the staunchest suitor would’ve been peeved. I staggered towards him, fully expecting him to lash out at me for making him wait—just what I needed to complete what already seemed to me was a horrid, completely pointless day.

But upon seeing me, H opened up his arms, took me in the most comforting hug, and stroked my hair, genuinely feeling bad for me for having had a bad day. No mention about how long I made him wait (a quarter of a day, in case you weren’t counting). Nothing about how tired he was from hanging out at the mall all by himself. At that point, all he had on his mind was how bad I felt, and how he just wanted to make me feel better. And at that point I knew—this one’s a keeper.