How To Slaughter An Interview

So picture it, that one interview that you prepared for, feeling svelt and confident in your abilities, proud with what you have to offer your would-be employer, and knowing you will be able to finally supplement your income to support that nasty habit you have: writing. Then the shit slowly begins to float, gracefully, like a particle of horrific crap dust, towards the fan. This was my experience:

The woman who will be interviewing me has given me bad directions and neglected to mention that the office I am seeking is not marked by any noticeable sign or any indication of its presence at all save for a very faint building number and some equally faint scribbly writing on the glass of the front window that reads: Caring Hands Dental Practice. Really? Because when I was finally able to make out the enigimatic lettering on the window after my tenth go around in the parking lot, the first thing that came to my mind was: oh there's the dentist office! Yeah right. Caring Hands? Denistry? Do they double as a rub and tug on the side and the dentistry part is just for appearance sake? I ended up being fifteen minutes late, although I did call to verify the location and got the same vague directions. Anywho, the position I am interviewing for is as a PR/Marketing agent for this dentist office, and in spite of my lack of experience, I am able to convey to the office manager that I am a hard working individual, I care about people and my desire to help them would allow me to sell this service to them in order to benefit their health and lives in general, as well as expressing my ability to represent the dentist office and ultimately widen their client base. She began to seem very interested in me...until her teeth began to hurt because a mere few hours ago she had veneers put in and throughout the entire interview had been suffering agonizing pain, so much so she could not even smile, on top of the growing pain in her mouth her husband calls and tells her very grave family news that leaves her not only in physical pain, but emotional distress, so she ends the interview early and slaps me with those dreaded words: I'll give you a call. That's about when the crap particles became a shit storm and offically hit the fan. Gotta love job hunting.