Alexander the Great
"Milly, what have I got this afternoon? Can I bug out?"
"I regret to inform you, Madam Vice President, that you have a 4:30 interview with Number One on your short list of wannabe administrative assistants - Rhonda. But go home, Shannon, really. I'll reschedule."
"Milly, when duty calls, give your all. I have chosen to set a shining example of suffering along with the troops. Please be sure everyone notes it. I'll stay and sweat with everybody else. Is there anything cold to drink out there?"
The afternoon went by. Slowly.
At 4:30, Milly ushered in a well-dressed, attractive, poised and per fumed young lady - Rhonda.
"Come in and have a seat, Rhonda, please. Milly, would you close the door? I apologize for the air conditioning, or lack of it, but they try to keep us humble sometimes. What a scorcher!"
"Oh, that's OK, It doesn't bother me. You know, I really like the heat."
And indeed Rhonda did seem comfortable. Everyone else was rum pled and red-faced; she looked like a New England autumn. That's good, Shannon thought, unflappable. But that perfume! Wow!
As Shannon picked up the resume and started to speak...ah choo!
Sudden, violent, out of nowhere.
"Bless you!" said Rhonda.
"Oh, thanks," Shannon gasped, reaching for a tissue. I don't know where that came from. "L..uh, ah CHOO!"
Rhonda blinked. "Are you okay?"
"Well, I was a minute ago. Whoo! Would you mind opening the door?
I think I need some air in here."
"Of course," and Rhonda hastened to comply.
Shannon's eyes were watering so badly she could hardly see. She wiped them but it didn't help. Her sinuses felt like lead. A summer cold, she thought, a quick and nasty one. Gamely, she carried on.
Then she couldn't breathe. In a minute, she was gasping painfully. Shannon completed the interview quickly and showed Rhonda out with an apology. She had no recollection of what was said.
Worried about her breathing, that something was seriously wrong, she called a doctor in the building who agreed to see her immediately. Down the hall and up in the elevator, she was in his office three minutes later. And the symptoms were gone. She felt fine.
The doctor examined her thoroughly and said, "Shannon, I think you had a severe allergic reaction. It was probably the perfume. You said it was strong."
"But I've never had a reaction to perfume before."
"Well, I suppose it could have been something else. She might have a dog or a cat at home, dander on her clothes. It could be her soap, or her shampoo or her hair spray. There's really no way to tell."
Shannon was fully recovered when she left the doctor's office, and showed no signs of a cold all week. Her remaining interviews went off without a hitch.
"So," asked Milly, "decision time, have you made it?"
"Yup," said Shannon.
"Rhonda? She was the best qualified, and she'd certainly fit in here. I liked her."
"Nope, can't do it. I only remember sneezing when she was here.
How can I call and say, Rhonda, I'd like to talk to you again, but this time, don't wear any perfume or hair spray, wash with a different soap, wear different clothes, and if you have a dog or cat, don't bother. How can I do that, Milly? She thinks I'm nuts already."
"Poor Rhonda."
"Right, poor Rhonda. Chalk her off to bad chemistry. Tell me, what'd you think about Joyce?"
If the most memorable part of the interview is your aroma, you're either wearing too much cologne or you need a shower (or both).
