My friend Jeanette is job-hunting. Today she had an interview with a well-known legal firm. She called me this evening.
"How did it go, Jeanette?" asked I.
"Well..." she said. "It was a bit weird. The office was nice - over in the Docklands." She paused. "Laura, have you ever been in an interview where the interviewer has used the word 'cunt'?"
"Are you sure this was an legal firm?" I asked. "Because actually, that has happened to me, but it was a different sort of job, and it was kind of less Docklands, and more King's Cross. Mostly shift work. Nights, specifically."
"Seriously," she said. "He used the word 'cunt'. And said 'fucking' twice. He asked me if I had a boyfriend. And then he told me that Finsbury Park spelled backwards was Krapy Rubsnif."
"Did you get the job?" I asked.
"No. Apparently they were looking for someone with a bit more professional experience."
Still, Krapy Rubsnif? Brilliant!
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