Greg and Nadine at the job interview (Part 1)
I had quite an eventful day yesterday. It did not begin well. I woke up, only to find that my place was flooded. The carpet was soaking wet in my bedroom. I got up, put my robe and slippers on, and had a look around to find the source of the leak. Not finding anything, I went to look outside. As I opened the front door, I saw a trail of water that looked like it came from one of the other apartments. I walked up to it to take a closer look, and I could see it had come from Chantal’s place next door.
An old lady approached me. She had white hair, a light blue dress with a grey cardigan, and brown shoes. She also had a pair of glasses and binoculars hanging from her neck.
“So you got flooded by Chantal?” she asked.
“Yes. Hi, I’m John, by the way. I think I have seen you once before. Are you new here?”
“I’m Nadine. I just moved in last week. I’m a couple of units further up, at unit 8.”
“Oh, I see. Do you–”
She grabbed my arm. “Let me tell you what happened,” she interrupted. “At three past five in the morning, Chantal and her boyfriend were having an argument. Hang on a minute.”
She put on her glasses, and fetched a notepad from a pocket in her cardigan. She started leafing through it.
“Ah,” she began, “Here goes the conversation:
Chantal: Don’t do it!
Boyfriend: I know what I’m doing!
Chantal: Let me call a f — king plumber!
Boyfriend: I don’t need a f — king plumber, b — tch. I know what I’m doing!”
Nadine looked up from her notepad and stared at me. “At that moment, there was a sudden gush of water that didn’t stop, and Chantal shrieked.” She then looked down at her notepad again. “At 5:05am, Chantal yelled some more at her boyfriend and said that she was calling a plumber. The boyfriend then stormed out. The plumber showed up at 5:28am, and stopped the water flowing at 5:32am.”
“That’s quite a detailed record you have there,” I remarked.
She put away her notepad, and came close to my left ear. “It wasn’t easy,” she whispered. “I had my hearing aid turned all the way up and pressed my ear against their window, all the while writing it all down.”
“I, uh, see. Well, I suppose I better start airing my place,” I said.
“You know, I know some really good guys that can professionally clean a place that has been flooded. Contact Kruger Kleaners on 3544 6698.”
“Hold on a minute, let me get my phone out,” I replied. “What was the number again?”
“3544 6698.”
“Okay. Got it. Thank you very much,” I said as I put the phone to my ear to call them.
Later in the day, the cleaners showed up at my place, and installed a few big fans to circulate the air around to dry everything. They also partially lifted the carpet in my bedroom and placed a fan there, and positioned it so that air was blown under the carpet. It made the carpet in most of my apartment rise up. It felt like I was living in an inflatable jumping castle. At about 1pm, I heard a knock at the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Nadine.”
I opened the door. “Oh, hi. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to check how things went. May I come in?”
“Sure.” I opened the security door, and she walked in. She looked carefully in every direction, including the floor, apparently scrutinising every detail of my lounge room.
“So, what time did the cleaning crew come in?” she asked.
“About an hour ago.”
“So that’s about 12pm, right?”
“Yes,” I said.
Nadine then quickly put her glasses on, pulled her notepad out, and started writing.
“And what did they do?”
“I, um, I mean, they put a few fans to dry the place. One of the fans blows air under the carpet, that’s why it has risen.”
“I see. And how many fans did they put?”
“Three.”
“I see,” she said flatly, all the while quickly writing in her notepad.
“Are you writing all — ”
“Hush,” she interrupted. She stopped writing. “I hear something.” Still holding the notepad in her left hand, she put down her glasses and raised her binoculars to her eyes, and looked through my lounge room window.
“Oh, it’s that guy, Greg Goget! He’s coming here. Do you know him?”
“Yes,” I replied.
Nadine put her binoculars down, and started writing in her notepad again. She muttered as she wrote. I could make out a “1:04pm” and a “knows Greg.”
Greg came up to the open door.
“Hi, Greg. Come in.”
“Hey, John. How’s it going?” He then looked down at my raised carpet. “What is going on here?” He then looked at Nadine. He looked like he was going to ask who she was.
Before I could answer, Nadine interrupted: “His place got flooded this morning. At 5:03am. Before that, Chantal was arguing with her boyfriend. Give me a minute to get the details.” Nadine then started flipping through her notepad again.
“Sorry about what happened to your place,” Greg said.
“Thanks. This is Nadine, by the way,” I said.
“Oh, nice to meet you,” Greg said to Nadine.
Nadine’s gaze was directed downward at her notepad. “Um, yeah, nice to meet you too,” she said with a monotonous voice as she narrowed down her search for the right page.
“U-U-Unfortunately,” Greg began with a stutter, “I have to run in a minute. John, I just wanted to tell you that I got an interview with Malcolm Bridgewater. He’s going to do a live TV job interview with me and some other candidates. Do you want to come and see? It’s at 7pm tonight.”
“Greg, my place has been flooded. I don’t think I’m — ”
“You gotta come, John. You gotta watch some of Bridgewater’s YouTube videos. He is a master businessman. He knows what he wants. He’s very philosophical too. He’s the greatest philosopher since Socrates.”
“Socrates! I’m always a bit wary of making statements like that.”
“Well, it’s true! You gotta come, John. Say you’ll come.”
“Can I come too?” asked Nadine.
“Sure. That’s one. Come on, John. You know you want to,” begged Greg.
“Oh, okay. I’ll come.”
“Great! When you’re a fighter in the ring, you gotta have a crew offside cheering you on.” And with that. Greg slightly spread his legs apart, and raised his fists in the air, taking the fighting stance of a boxer. He started punching the air, uttering the occasional “Pow!” and “Yeah!”.
“That’s a very interesting fighting technique,” remarked Nadine. She opened her notepad and began writing again. “Tell me, how long have you been doing that?”
Greg stopped punching the air. “I only fight while I’m in the ring.”
“Which ring?” she asked.
“The ring where I face my opponent — everyday life!”
I mentally paused my life at this moment. I had to ponder on it all. My place had been flooded. There’s Greg, training again to take on his opponent: everyday life. And there’s Nadine, chronicling it all.
I saw Greg and Nadine off. We had arranged that we’d all go in my car to the television studio later that night.
It was 6pm, and I heard a knock at the door. It was Greg, so I let him in. Several minutes later, Nadine arrived. Greg was wearing a black suit and grey tie, while Nadine had a cream-coloured dress, a handbag, and the same brown shoes she had before. She still had her glasses and binoculars draped around her neck. We all got into my car, and I started driving. The sun had set, and only a dark glimmer of twilight hung over the sky. Other cars on the road were reduced to starry lights of white and red, surrounded by their ghostly vehicular shells.
We eventually reached the city. Our destination was not too far away now. I asked Greg about his big moment.
“So, Greg, are you ready for this?”
“I sure am. I have heard so much about Malcolm Bridgewater. He gives a lot of interviews to journalists. I haven’t gotten around to seeing them though.”
“So what does this Bridgewater guy do?”
“Well, he’s the company CEO.”
“What does his company do?”
“It is a dynamic, multi-level organisation. At least that’s what it said in the job description,” replied Greg.
“That seems a little vague. Anything more specific?”
“That’s all I know.”
“If you don’t know anything more than that, wouldn’t that harm your chances of getting the job?” inquired Nadine.
“Not at all. My opponent is the punches of everyday life. The punches can come from anywhere. So it is a waste of time trying to predict them. You gotta be on the ball. You gotta seize the moment. But you don’t know when that moment presents itself.”
“I see.”
“Nadine, did you think you’d be going to a TV studio twenty-four hours ago?” I asked.
“Well, it certainly wasn’t in my notepad!” she said with all seriousness.
Greg and I suppressed our laughter.
“Nadine, if you don’t mind me asking, why do you have binoculars?” Greg asked.
“Oh, I never part with them. I use them to observe distant things.”
“But we’re going to a television studio.”
“People use them at operas! Anyway, my binoculars are a part of me. We are inseparable.”
“Well, that settles that!” I remarked.
We were now at the television station. I pulled into the parking lot, and we got out. We looked around and quickly spotted the entrance. We headed over there.
Once inside, we saw a reception desk. A secretary sat behind it, while a security guard stood to the side. Greg walked up to the desk.
“Hi. I’m Greg Goget. I’m a job applicant appearing on Malcolm Bridge — ”
“Bridgewater!” the receptionist replied. “Just give me a moment to register your attendance.”
“By the way, these two, John and Nadine, are with me as guests,” added Greg. Both Nadine and I gave a nod in greeting.
“Great. I’ll just put in both your names,” replied the receptionist. “Okay everyone, just head down the corridor. Greg, you go to the third door on the left. John and Nadine, you can enter either the first or second doors on the left. The seating area for the audience is about three-quarters full, so you probably need to find a seat somewhere near the back.”
The security guard walked over to Nadine.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but you cannot enter the studio with those binoculars,” the guard stated.
“Nobody is touching my binoculars!”
“Ma’am, binoculars are not allowed.”
“But I need them to see! I’m going to be seated at the back of the audience!” Nadine replied. She reached into her handbag, took out her notepad and started writing in it.
To be continued…
What happens next? Does Nadine keep her binoculars? Or will she need to find a way to survive without them? And how does Greg do on the TV show interview with Bridgewater? Follow my Medium or Twitter (@JChuckler) accounts so you can see my post when I release part 2 of this story.
