A New JobPart 1 The Interview

I had been working as a top executive for a start up Internet Company. When the market fell, we were unable to raise capital. We found ourselves having to dissolve our enterprise. We were deep in debt and without jobs. Though holding an MBA from the University of Chicago, I found myself in the lines of the unemployed, over qualified and not marketable. After a year of resume rejection and with my unemployment benefits running out,*I became desperate. I needed work.It was when I was at my lowest point, that I found myself in a local coffee shop browsing through the local alternative newspaper, when an interesting ad caught my interest. "Wanted, male executive secretary! Loyalty, service, and eclectic professional skills required. Call to set up an interview." Curious, I called and was told to present my resume at a major financial institution.That night, over a Martini, I pondered my position and figured that although this*job was well below my skill set...what the heck. What do I have to lose? Perhaps if I can get my foot in the door, they will see what I have to offer. I laughed when I considered that a year ago, I was interviewing secretaries.The Yeşilköy escort bayan next day, I dressed in one of my best suits, white shirt, silk tie, and took the subway downtown. Resume in hand, brimming with confidence, I took an elevator to the 20th floor of the CEO's office. A well dressed female secretary took my resume and politely told me to fill out a brief questionnaire. It was brief. It only addressed personal questions as height, weight, marital status, health issues, and curiously, my fitness level. I almost decided to leave, but desperation and curiosity kept me intrigued. After filling out the personal data, I was told that one last item was required. A full length personal photo. I was in shock, but I found myself taking off my coat and posing for several full length digital photos. Then secretary then told me that my application would be reviewed, and that I would be contacted if I made the personal interview level. In a daze, I left feeling somewhat humiliated yet profoundly inquisitive.For the next few days my mind was racing with questions. I assumed that I was over qualified and would Escort Yeşilyurt never make the personal interview level, but I couldn't stop thinking about the photo and personal information requirement. The next day there was a voice message on my phone.*"Andrew, you are required to present yourself for a personal interview, this Saturday at exactly 10:00 am...do not be late." The tone of the message was very*commanding. The message had a quality of female power and control. The address for the interview was for a high rise on Lake Shore Drive, and*the interviewers name was just D. Demand. There was no call back number. Confused, I tried calling the original interview number,only to receive a recorded message stating that they were no longer accepting applications. Needless to say, I had a few restless nights thinking about what I should do.*Saturday morning, I found myself nervously awakening at 5:00 am. Still unsure of what to do, I went for a jog along the lake shore. Desperate, I realized that I had no choice. Also, there was something else, the commanding tone of her voice. "Don't be late!"While showering, Zeytinburnu escort inexplicably, I became aroused. I wanted to touch my enlarged penis, but something told me to stop. Was it that voice? As*I dressed, I found myself selecting a daring satin bikini male thong, my most stylish slacks, a white Italian linen shirt provocatively unbuttoned, a casual silk sport coat, and Italian loafers with no socks. I looked like I was going for a night on the town. I had no idea why, but it just felt right.When I arrived, I remembered the commanding tone of her voice telling me to be there exactly at 10:00 am. Security at the front desk made a phone call, and I was given permission to proceed to a gold elevator door. The gold door opened, and as I entered*I saw only one button. It was labeled D.Demand. A security camera scanned my image, the doors closed, and I was whisked to an undisclosed floor.The elevator door opened to a large foyer. Directly, in front of me were two black french doors. I was approached from a side door by the secretary who had taken my photo. Should politely told me that she had to use a metal detector. I was told to empty my pockets. Then she checked for hidden implements. After passing inspection, she told me to proceed through the french doors and to have a seat in the red chair that faced a large black chair that was in the center of the room.My first view was that of a windowed penthouse that towered over the surrounding buildings.