I walked my only job interview, degree in hand, believing I wanted a cushy engineering job right here in Minnesota. I met the head of HR and the head of engineering. My superiors. We sat across from each other at an elongated table. They interviewed me. I reacted with answers nervously.
We shook hands and I left. Driving home in traffic, I replayed the interview. I couldn’t get out of my head how these two were dressed. Polo shirts, tucked into khakis. During the interview I felt the need to impress these two guys, they were after all in positions I was supposed to want. The head of engineering rounds the table, offers his hand in front of his belly and says, “Someday maybe you could have my job.”
As we shake, his polo slightly untucks from his khakis.
If I wanted security all I had to do was wear the uniform, a polo shirt tucked into khakis. But I couldn’t do it. I ran. I preferred yoga pants and a cozy sweater. Or a suit and tie. Or... I decided I’ll move outside the country, to Mexico. For the next 7 tears I wore huaraches and floral print.