One lone strand of stubble emanated from his upper lip, like a monolith in an open field. It caught my eye as soon as I walked in to the interview. My inner voice is having to scream, “Stop staring at it! Keep eye contact!” It’s difficult concentrate on his questions when I have so many of my own. Did he leave it on purpose? Is he saving it? Or did his razor just miss it? Do I even want to work here, based on the lack of attention to detail that my potential boss is wearing on his face? Is this a test? Does he want me to point it out to him? Can I pluck it? Do I have any stray stubble on my own face? Do I have OCD? I think I saw him notice me staring at his upper lip. “Stop staring at it! Keep eye contact!” I’m now pretending to thoughtfully consider a question while I casually run my right hand over my face to inspect for stubble. All clear. This confirms that I have the upper hand. I’ll have him reporting to me in less than a year. I still want to pluck it.
I Saw You is an anonymous “man on the street” column. Email your rants and raves about co-workers or any badly behaving citizens to [email protected], or send to 380 S. First St, San Jose, 95113. Submissions should stick to about 100 words.
