Anonymous
It was Christmas in New York - lights strung and decorations hung, store windows fully dressed, carols and the smell of roasting chest nuts in the air. Tourists and natives smiled alike as they strolled avenues. The Spirit of the Season was everywhere.
There is something particularly work depressing about Christmas, There's have a job.
Then I got an interview. It was at 666 Fifth Avenue, right in the center of New York's "Miracle Mile" for shoppers and sightseers - Saks Fifth Avenue, Bergdorf-Goodman, Rockefeller Center, St. Patrick's Cathedral, Radio City Music Hall, all within blocks.
As I walked up Fifth Avenue, coming over from Grand Central Station, I was torn between the Christmas cheer around me and the personal depression inside. Not a good frame of mind for a job interview and I knew it, but how to shake it?
Well, being third-generation Irish and proud of it, an old Irish superstition popped into my head: generosity brings luck. What's to lose, I thought. I could sure use some. So I fished out a five-dollar bill and dropped it with a flourish into a red Salvation Army kettle tended by a bell-ringing Santa.
I felt better already, my luck was sure to change. And it did. As I stepped off smartly up the avenue, my first step was on the back of a sneaker covering a size-14 foot. It came completely off, the sneaker that is, and was immediately lost amid the high heels and wingtips filling the sidewalk.
The exceptionally large man who owned the sneaker - wearing jeans, black leather jacket, wild black beard and an earring below a woolen ski cap proclaiming " Giants" - looked like he warmed up each day lifting small cars and then worked up to buses and trucks, a walking endorsement of what anabolic steroids can do for you. He was not amused.
As I started to apologize, hoping he'd say something like "Hey man, accidents happen, forget it," he lunged at my throat. I'd love to tell you I did my Bruce Lee imitation, flattening him with one kick, but my feet actually ran as fast as they could with the one-sneakered gorilla right behind. It's amazing what a massive adrenaline surge does for you. We weaved up the avenue, in and out of strollers and Santa's helpers, until I hit the lobby of 666 in full stride and squeezed through the closing doors of an elevator.
I deliberately got off at the wrong floor to catch my breath, and then went on to the interview. It was not my best
The only good-luck part of that day was that the building had multiple exits, and I was able to leave by a different door. So much for my five- dollar bill and the luck of the Irish.
I never saw my "friend" again, but on the remote chance that he reads this: I'm really sorry I stepped on your foot, and you won't find my address printed anywhere in this book.
Allow enough time before an interview to regain your composure after an unexpected problem.
