Janie was running seriously late. The taxicab had managed to get lost on the journey across town, the driver was more interested in quizzing her about her private life than following his sat nav. The elevator from the underground car park to the lobby was not working so she had to walk or in her case run a quarter mile extra out of the building and back in at street level.

Then the receptionist on front desk had a really important bit of telephone flirting to do before she could be bothered to deal with Janie.

“Jane Barron, interview, Room One oh three, Eleven thirty,” she blurted out.

“You’ re late,” the receptionist observed, “Take the centre elevator.” No good luck or anything the receptionist just picked up her cellphone again with a bored scowl.

Janie sprinted for the elevator, she had been pretty good at 100meter running at high school but her three inch heels were a big handicap as she tore across the lobby.

“One oh three,” she bellowed at the lift operator.

“One oh three,” he replied in a bored monotone and stood watching the main door.

“I’m late!” Janie protested.

“Shoud have gotten up earlier,” the lift guy observed, “Wastes energy just doing trips for one person, better to wait a minute to see if anyone else rocks up.”

“Dam you,” I’ll take the stairs,” she snapped, but the doors were closing.

Her heart was pounding, she needed the job, she didn’t really think she had a chance but she would take anything as long as it wasn’t McDonalds or Wal Mart, or driving a truck, or working in a care home, basically she wanted an easy 9 to 5 desk job paying mega bucks but in her mind she would take anything.

The lift started moving.

She couldn’t really understand why she had been short listed but she was going to get this job no matter what.

The lift stopped.