I arrived for my job interview a half an hour early – which gave me time to review my resume and questions I prepared for the meeting. Having been in search of employment for the past 4 months, I was willing to do anything to attain a job. I signed into the clipboard that lay on the counter at the front desk and scribbled my name and time of arrival. The waiting area appeared to be rich and comfortable which gave me a sense of relaxation. The couch was black leather with large buttons and there were four black leather over stuffed chairs meticulously placed in a conversational pattern with two end tables amidst.
I was called back almost immediately, lucky for me, I thought I would have to wait at least until my scheduled appointment time of 10:00am. I followed the short, black haired woman who made a “shushing” sound when she walked. The woman was approximately 50 lbs overweight and her thighs rubbed as she walked, creating that sound of polyester on polyester. She probably had to buy clothes often as they tended to wear out in the crotch area faster than the rest of the pants.
We arrived at a closed mahogany door with a shiny brass door handle. The woman knocked and muttered, “Mrs. Moserton – Abigail Remmington is here for her 10:00am interview- may I send her in”? Mrs. Moserton either didn’t hear the short woman or she wasn’t quite ready to see me. The second knock on the door resulted in the same, no response. She knocked a third time and at the same time slowly opened the heavy looking door while walking into the office. I remained two steps behind her and nearly smacked right into the woman when she made a sudden stop and screamed louder than I’ve ever heard anyone scream. For the next 3 seconds, I was mystified at what could possibly be the reason and purpose of such a noise this woman emitted. Then, just as I was about to ask her what was wrong, I saw it. There was blood on the walls, desk, carpet and what was left of Mrs Moserton.
I’ve never in my life experienced such a horrific scene. Mrs. Moserton’s body parts were severed and hung from the ceiling like some twisted chandelier. At that moment, I decided it was time for me to depart this murder scene.
As politely and sympathetically as I could, I relayed my condolences and excused myself from the building. The overweight woman ensured me that she would give me a call when the “smoke” cleared to reschedule our meeting.
As I was walking out to the parking lot, I wondered which employee was next in-line to be completing the interviews. The internet should provide me with the information that I need to attain the demographics on the employee that will interview me next. Hopefully the overweight woman doesn’t call me back immediately-it takes persistent patterned eavesdropping to attain all the “comings & goings” of a person’s daily activities anonymously.