I arrived early for what I thought would be a standard job interview. The waiting room was quiet, and a smug man in a sharp suit lounged like he owned the place. He looked me up and down and smugly assured me there was no real competition. I bit my tongue as he droned on, his ego filling the room. Little did he know, his attitude was about to cost him everything.
Then a woman entered — gray sweatshirt, mop in hand, clearly the janitor. He sneered and loudly mocked her, making rude comments about her smell and presence. She stayed silent and graceful, mopping the floor with dignity. I felt secondhand embarrassment, knowing he’d regret it. The room buzzed with tension, but she never lost her poise.
Ten minutes later, the “janitor” walked back in — this time in heels, a blazer, and full authority. She was the boss and calmly began the interview. The man turned pale, tried to backtrack, and even offered her a shoulder massage. She ended his interview and turned to me: “You’re hired.” His stunned silence said more than any apology ever could.
Just then, the real director arrived, explaining it had all been a test. The “janitor” was Linda, a longtime employee helping expose disrespectful candidates. Turns out, I’d passed with flying colors by treating her with kindness. I walked out grinning, reminded that karma always finds its way. Respect, it turns out, is the best qualification of all.